The Painted Ceiling (Amy Lowell Poem)
My Grandpapa lives in a wonderful house With a great many windows and doors, There are stairs that go up, ...
My Grandpapa lives in a wonderful house With a great many windows and doors, There are stairs that go up, ...
Though poor and in trouble I wander alone, With rebel cockade in my hat, Though friends may desert me, and ...
The men kept to themselves: they were waiting for the swiftness of the last cyclists. The women kept to themselves: ...
In his lodge beside a river, Close beside a frozen river, Sat an old man, sad and lonely. White his ...
O Sovereign power of love! O grief! O balm! All records, saving thine, come cool, and calm, And shadowy, through ...
Full many a dreary hour have I past, My brain bewildered, and my mind o'ercast With heaviness; in seasons when ...
I sing of the decline of Henry Clay Who loved a white girl of uncommon size. Although a small man ...
when you step out of the wood and go first time to school you have to be so specially careful ...
for the naming of tara this bowl of joy that her fruits of earth she'll well employ for the naming ...
(1) a great man there was a great man so great he couldn't be criticised in the light who died ...
october stops the pretence that somehow summer should still be loitering around it walks through the garden hanging the spiders ...
A simple nosegay! Was that much to ask? (Winter still nagged, with scarce a bud yet showing.) He loved her ...
Clustered in the branches not individuals, not the branches, not the fruits, clusters, a bunch of grapes not a single ...
Take up your horn fill it with oil we have a new king to crown I will tell you who ...
A hole in the wall shop, Counter and seller Plastic cups and pitchers A bit of rum, a bunch of ...
College was wasted on the lot of us at least in that moment or maybe it was the intoxication of ...
What conversazzhyonies wuz I really did not know, For that, you must remember, wuz a powerful spell ago; The camp ...
He reads my latest attempt at a poem and is silent for a long time, until it feels like that ...
What tree may not the fig be gathered from? The grape may not be gathered from the birch? It's all ...
As the sweet sweat of roses in a still, As that which from chafed musk-cats' pores doth trill, As the ...
"ROWSES, Rowses! Penny a bunch!" they tell you-- Slattern girls in Trafalgar, eager to sell you. Roses, roses, red in ...
(Translated from the French by Edouard Rodti) My wife with the hair of a wood fire With the thoughts of ...
a novel by Richard Brautigan THE COVER FOR TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA The cover for Trout Fishing in America is ...
SANDBOX MINUS JOHN DILLINGER EQUALS WHAT? Often I return to the cover of Trout Fishing in America. I took the ...
WITNESS FOR TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA PEACE In San Francisco around Easter time last year, they had a trout fishing ...
THE AUTOPSY OF TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA This is the autopsy of Trout Fishing in America as if Trout Fishing ...
WORSEWICK Worsewick Hot Springs was nothing fancy. Somebody put some boards across the creek. That was it. The boards dammed ...
I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave! You need not clap your torches to my face. Zooks, what's to ...
You'll love me yet!-and I can tarry Your love's protracted growing: June reared that bunch of flowers you carry From ...
Far from the churchyard dig his grave, On some green mound beside the wave; To westward, sea and sky alone, ...
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