The Red Lacquer Music-Stand (Amy Lowell Poem)
A music-stand of crimson lacquer, long since brought In some fast clipper-ship from China, quaintly wrought With bossed and carven ...
A music-stand of crimson lacquer, long since brought In some fast clipper-ship from China, quaintly wrought With bossed and carven ...
What charm is yours, you faded old-world tapestries, Of outworn, childish mysteries, Vague pageants woven on a web of dream! ...
I How the slates of the roof sparkle in the sun, over there, over there, beyond the high wall! How ...
A Minstrel stands on a marble stair, Blown by the bright wind, debonair; Below lies the sea, a sapphire floor, ...
Er-Heb beyond the Hills of Ao-Safai Bears witness to the truth, and Ao-Safai Hath told the men of Gorukh. Thence ...
When I was a King and a Mason -- a Master proven and skilled -- I cleared me ground for ...
St. Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare limp'd trembling through ...
I Jesús, Estrella, Esperanza, Mercy: Sails flashing to the wind like weapons, sharks following the moans the fever and the ...
I He bends his travel-tarnished feet To where she wastes in clay: From day-dawn until eve he fares Along the ...
Lingo of birds was easier than lingo of peasants- they were elusive, though, the birds, for excellent reasons. He thought ...
It snowed in spring on earth so dry and warm The flakes could find no landing place to form. Hordes ...
Come, my darling, let us dance To the moon that beckons us To dissolve our love in trance Heedless of ...
Come, my darling, let us dance To the moon that beckons us To dissolve our love in trance Heedless of ...
THE PROLOGUE. When that the Knight had thus his tale told In all the rout was neither young nor old, ...
Across the wet November night The church is bright with candlelight And waiting Evensong. A single bell with plaintive strokes ...
(France -- Ancient Regime.) I. Go away! Go away; I will not confess to you! His black biretta clings like ...
"Oh yes, I went over to Edmonstoun the other day and saw Johnny, mooning around as usual! He will never ...
There is darkness behind the light -- and the pale light drips Cold on vague shapes and figures, that, half-seen ...
Wind blows. Snow falls. The great clock in its tower Ticks with reverberant coil and tolls the hour: At the ...
Far from the churchyard dig his grave, On some green mound beside the wave; To westward, sea and sky alone, ...
LIKE this alabaster box whose art Is frail as a cassia-flower, is my heart, Carven with delicate dreams and wrought ...
HER life is a revolving dream Of languid and sequestered ease; Her girdles and her fillets gleam Like changing fires ...
To Jena Woodhouse This way of minutes miserably mixed With their own blinks misunderstood By birds and trees, this eye-born ...
Between the rice swamps and the fields of tea I met a sacred elephant, snow-white. Upon his back a huge ...
Hot August noon: already on that day Since sunrise through the Wiltshire downs, most sad Of mouth and eye, he ...
You observe the carven hand With the index finger pointing heavenward. That is the direction, no doubt. But how shall ...
Chapter I. Once on a time, a Dawn, all red and bright Leapt on the conquered ramparts of the Night, ...
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