The Song of the Little Hunter (Rudyard Kipling Poem)
Ere Mor the Peacock flutters, ere the Monkey People cry, Ere Chil the Kite swoops down a furlong sheer, Through ...
Ere Mor the Peacock flutters, ere the Monkey People cry, Ere Chil the Kite swoops down a furlong sheer, Through ...
There's no sense in going further -- it's the edge of cultivation," So they said, and I believed it -- ...
A little too abstract, a little too wise, It is time for us to kiss the earth again, It is ...
The clock of my days winds down. The cat eats sparrows outside my window. Once, she brought me a small ...
A cool small evening shrunk to a dog bark and the clank of a bucket - And you listening. A ...
all is still on this starless night the mountain waits quiescent as a cat smoothing crag and chasm to a ...
Here in turn succeed and rule Carter, smith, and village fool, Then again the place is known As tavern, shop, ...
A lobster pot tossed by the sea onto the rocks wedged in the jetty between the boulders of the breakwater ...
The mountain held the town as in a shadow I saw so much before I slept there once: I noticed ...
Not only sands and gravels Were once more on their travels, But gulping muddy gallons Great boulders off their balance ...
Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it And spills the upper boulder in ...
I had sex with a famous poet last night and when I rolled over and found myself beside him I ...
Amber husk fluted with gold, fruit on the sand marked with a rich grain, treasure spilled near the shrub-pines to ...
O all the little rivers that run to Hudson's Bay, They call me and call me to follow them away. ...
Tomorrow's Thursday again, swept with the days' meandering flow: this, that, and the week goes, hearing time splash through cracks. ...
Bells are booming down the bohreens, White the mist along the grass, Now the Julias, Maeves and Maureens Move between ...
THE HUNCHBACK TROUT The creek was made narrow by little green trees that grew too close together. The creek was ...
As evening falls, The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving, ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
I The girl in the room beneath Before going to bed Strums on a mandolin The three simple tunes she ...
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind announces autumn, and the equinox rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon. ...
Here in my mountain home, On rugged hills and steep, I sit and watch you come, O Riverinia Sheep! You ...
'Twas in the year of 1888, and on July the 14th day, That an alarming accident occurred in the River ...
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but ...
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