Grandmother’ (Oliver Wendell Holmes Poems)
'Tis like stirring living embers when, at eighty, one remembersAll the achings and the quakings of "the times that tried ...
'Tis like stirring living embers when, at eighty, one remembersAll the achings and the quakings of "the times that tried ...
See an old unhappy bull,Sick in soul and body both,Slouching in the undergrowthOf the forest beautiful,Banished from the herd he ...
Are you coming, Ivan, coming?-Ah, the ways are long and slow,In the vast land that we know not-and we never ...
I've sung of Spring, her buds and flowers, Of Summer suns and Summer roses;Of golden Autumn's dreamy skies, The wealth her bounteous ...
There is a quiet gentleman a-motoring in France(Oh, don't you hear the honking of a British motor-car?)-Like any quiet gentleman ...
The scarlet trumpet flowers are gayAnd yet they never seem to play,They never trumpet up the dawnNor blow retreat across ...
Alpha and Omega, sadness and mirth, The springing music, and its wasting breath--The fairest things in life are Death and ...
A LANE of elms in June;-the air Of eve is cool and calm and sweet. See! straying here a ...
What's the blast from the trumpets? Hussars, to the fray! The field-marshal rides in the rolling mellay: So ...
Come for the prizesAll are allotted, Leaving the ranks ofCut flowers and potted, ...
A FRAGMENTBehold! on an Assyrian quayFast by the town of Nineveh,At moon of night, methought I stoodWhere Tigris went with ...
I don't remember exactly when Budberg died, it was either two years ago or three. The same ...
Who hath heard the legions tramping? Who hath heard the chargers champing? Who hath looked upon the arming ...
When the racing sea-tides flow, And the strong ships seaward go,When the voice of the ocean's crying, And the ...
Not the muffled drums for himNor the wailing of the fife.Trumpets blaring to the chargeWere the music of his life.Let ...
In the sheltered garden pale beneath the moon,(Drenched with swaying fragrance, redolent with June!)There, among the shadows, some one lingers ...
Many's the time I've found your faceFresh as a bunch of flowers in May,Waiting for me at our own old ...
(sign at a railroad crossing in Kenya) In a poem, one line may hide another line, As at a crossing, ...
Ere Mor the Peacock flutters, ere the Monkey People cry, Ere Chil the Kite swoops down a furlong sheer, Through ...
for Greg Fallon A kid yells "Mother Fucker" out the school bus window. I don't think anyone notices the afternoon ...
The only thing I miss about Los Angeles is the Hollywood Freeway at midnight, windows down and radio blaring bearing ...
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