In a Castle (Amy Lowell Poem)
I Over the yawning chimney hangs the fog. Drip -- hiss -- drip -- hiss -- fall the raindrops on ...
I Over the yawning chimney hangs the fog. Drip -- hiss -- drip -- hiss -- fall the raindrops on ...
A drifting, April, twilight sky, A wind which blew the puddles dry, And slapped the river into waves That ran ...
That Whitsun, I was late getting away: Not till about One-twenty on the sunlit Saturday Did my three-quarters-empty train pull ...
The squatter saw his pastures wide Decrease, as one by one The farmers moving to the west Selected on his ...
Have you seen the bush by moonlight, from the train, go running by? Blackened log and stump and sapling, ghostly ...
There's a brook on the side of Greylock that used to be full of trout, But there's nothing there now ...
'My father still reads the dictionary every day. He says your life depends on your power to master words.' Arthur ...
I sat transfixed, enthralled, entranced in the grip the allure, the beauty the magic in the flickering flame slowly consuming ...
Forget the frank, Give me the Fenway sausage. Lansdowne or Yawkey, Just give me the street, the crowds, the carts. ...
Lead and wood Fused for a purpose Life changes In blackened ovals Shading, within the lines Fear, struggle. Am I ...
1 Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight: And ...
SHE stood against the kitchen sink, and looked Over the sink out through a dusty window At weeds the water ...
"OH, let's go up the hill and scare ourselves, As reckless as the best of them to-night, By setting fire ...
I THE WINTER evening settles down With smell of steaks in passageways. Six o'clock. The burnt-out ends of smoky days. ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
Whangaehu waters, hot-spilled from the cauldron of Crater Lake, swirling mud-green from the cup between Tahurangi and Pyramid Peak, sulphurous, ...
Botticelli grinned with egg tempera congealed at the hinge of his lips Velasquez licked shine from an aubergine blackened in ...
Every month or so, Sundays, we walked the line, The limit and the boundary. Past the sweet gum Superb above ...
The Mountains A land of sombre, silent hills, where mountain cattle go By twisted tracks, on sidelings deep, where giant ...
A land, as far as the eye can see, where the waving grasses grow Or the plains are blackened and ...
Type of the antique Rome! Rich reliquary Of lofty contemplation left to Time By buried centuries of pomp and power! ...
'Twas in the town of Sunderland, and in the year of 1883, That about 200 children were launch'd into eternity ...
As I stood upon the sandy beach One morn near Pentland Ferry, I saw a beautiful brigantine, And all her ...
Our fathers all were poor, Poorer our fathers' fathers; Beyond, we dare not look. We, the sons, keep store Of ...
God had called us, and we came; Our loved Earth to ashes left; Heaven was a neighbor's house, Open to ...
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but ...
The artisans of this room, who designed the lamp base (a huge red slug with a hole where its heart ...
Along the strand stones, busted shells, wood scraps, bottle tops, dimpled and stainless beer cans. Something began here a century ...
1 We live here because the houses are clean, the lawns run right to the street and the streets run ...
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