The Proud Poet (Joyce Kilmer Poem)
(For Shaemas O Sheel) One winter night a Devil came and sat upon my bed, His eyes were full of ...
(For Shaemas O Sheel) One winter night a Devil came and sat upon my bed, His eyes were full of ...
(For Eleanor Rogers Cox) For blows on the fort of evil That never shows a breach, For terrible life-long races ...
Byron! how sweetly sad thy melody! Attuning still the soul to tenderness, As if soft Pity, with unusual stress, Had ...
'My father still reads the dictionary every day. He says your life depends on your power to master words.' Arthur ...
With saddest music all day long She soothed her secret sorrow: At night she sighed "I fear 'twas wrong Such ...
THE AUTOPSY OF TROUT FISHING IN AMERICA This is the autopsy of Trout Fishing in America as if Trout Fishing ...
"Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er ...
"Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er ...
BY QUEVEDO REDIVIVUS SUGGESTED BY THE COMPOSITION SO ENTITLED BY THE AUTHOR OF 'WAT TYLER' 'A Daniel come to judgment! ...
in these red labyrinths of London I find that I have chosen the strangest of all callings, save that, in ...
Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts All meaning from a name! White houses prank where once were huts. Glion, but not ...
Through Alpine meadows soft-suffused With rain, where thick the crocus blows, Past the dark forges long disused, The mule-track from ...
Goethe in Weimar sleeps, and Greece, Long since, saw Byron's struggle cease. But one such death remain'd to come; The ...
what i liked about e.e. cummings was that he cut away from the holiness of the word and with charm ...
The Lives and Times of John Keats, Percy Bysshe Shelley, and George Gordon Noel, Lord Byron Byron and Shelley and ...
One thing that literature would be greatly the better for Would be a more restricted employment by the authors of ...
How often we forget all time, when lone Admiring Nature's universal throne; Her woods- her wilds- her mountains- the intense ...
Alas! the people's hearts are now full of sorrow For the deceased Professor Blackie, of Edinboro'; Because he was a ...
Out of the lights and roar of cities, Drifting down like a spark in Spoon River, Burnt out with the ...
Think you, if Laura had been Petrarch's wife He would have written sonnets all his life? DON JUAN, III, 63-4 ...
I. My face resembles your face less and less each day. When I was young no one mistook whose child ...
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