The Testing-Tree (Stanley Kunitz Poem)
1 On my way home from school up tribal Providence Hill past the Academy ballpark where I could never hope ...
1 On my way home from school up tribal Providence Hill past the Academy ballpark where I could never hope ...
A much-discerning Public hold The Singer generally sings And prints and sells his past for gold. Whatever I may here ...
DEVOUTEST of my Sunday friends, The patient Organ-blower bends; I see his figure sink and rise, (Forgive me, Heaven, my ...
I crossed the parking lot The man in the convenience store beyond the gas pumps trying to cash already cashed ...
"Sown in dishonor"! Ah! Indeed! May this "dishonor" be? If I were half so fine myself I'd notice nobody! "Sown ...
To the tune "Red Lips" Tired of swinging indolent I rise with a slender hand put right my hair the ...
For John Malcolm Brinnin and Bill Read: Duxbury It was cold and windy, scarcely the day to take a walk ...
I have enough treasures from the past to last me longer than I need, or want. You know as well ...
Not under foreign skies Nor under foreign wings protected - I shared all this with my own people There, where ...
A city clerk, but gently born and bred; His wife, an unknown artist's orphan child-- One babe was theirs, a ...
I have not brought my Odyssey With me here across the sea; But you'll remember, when I say How, when ...
One, who is not, we see; but one, whom we see not, is; Surely this is not that; but that ...
The man above was a murderer, the man below was a thief; And I lay there in the bunk between, ...
Fayre eyes, the myrrour of my mazed hart, what wondrous vertue is contaynd in you the which both lyfe and ...
O Teddy Bear! with your head awry And your comical twisted smile, You rub your eyes -- do you wonder ...
Smith, great writer of stories, drank; found it immortalized his pen; Fused in his brain-pan, else a blank, heavens of ...
What would I do without your voice to wake me? Cor ad cor loquitur, I'm loath to know. Kitsch operas ...
If ever I am old, and all alone, I shall have killed one grief, at any rate; For then, thank ...
How this tart fable instructs And mocks! Here's the parody of that moral mousetrap Set in the proverbs stitched on ...
With white frost gone And all green dreams not worth much, After a lean day's work Time comes round for ...
Chapter I. Once on a time, a Dawn, all red and bright Leapt on the conquered ramparts of the Night, ...
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