Syringa (John Ashbery Poem)
Orpheus liked the glad personal quality Of the things beneath the sky. Of course, Eurydice was a part Of this. ...
Orpheus liked the glad personal quality Of the things beneath the sky. Of course, Eurydice was a part Of this. ...
Something strange is creeping across me. La Celestina has only to warble the first few bars Of "I Thought about ...
Celebrate our anniversary - can't you see tonight the snowy night of our first winter comes back again in every ...
I have enough treasures from the past to last me longer than I need, or want. You know as well ...
THROUGH the black, rushing smoke-bursts, Thick breaks the red flame. All Etna heaves fiercely Her forest-clothed frame. Not here, O ...
The evening comes, the fields are still. The tinkle of the thirsty rill, Unheard all day, ascends again; Deserted is ...
Through the black, rushing smoke-bursts, Thick breaks the red flame. All Etna heaves fiercely Her forest-clothed frame. Not here, O ...
1 Faster, faster, 2 O Circe, Goddess, 3 Let the wild, thronging train 4 The bright procession 5 Of eddying ...
Through the black, rushing smoke-bursts, Thick breaks the red flame; All Etna heaves fiercely Her forest-clothed frame. Not here, O ...
The Youth Faster, faster, O Circe, Goddess, Let the wild, thronging train The bright procession Of eddying forms, Sweep through ...
In this lone, open glade I lie, Screen'd by deep boughs on either hand; And at its end, to stay ...
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
Go, for they call you, shepherd, from the hill; Go, shepherd, and untie the wattled cotes! No longer leave thy ...
I'm thinking about you. What else can I say? The palm trees on the reverse are a delusion; so is ...
This is a word we use to plug holes with. It's the right size for those warm blanks in speech, ...
You're sad because you're sad. It's psychic. It's the age. It's chemical. Go see a shrink or take a pill, ...
In the secular night you wander around alone in your house. It's two-thirty. Everyone has deserted you, or this is ...
We, unaccustomed to courage exiles from delight live coiled in shells of loneliness until love leaves its high holy temple ...
It's the hand we clasp with an honest grasp That gives a hearty thrill; It's the good we pour into ...
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