On Carpaccio’s Picture (Amy Lowell Poems)
Swept, clean, and still, across the polished floor From some unshuttered casement, hid from sight, The level sunshine slants, its ...
Swept, clean, and still, across the polished floor From some unshuttered casement, hid from sight, The level sunshine slants, its ...
Our Ulla lay one morning and slept,A hand beneath her ear;Her key alone the taverner keptOr through its hole might ...
Swept, clean, and still, across the polished floor From some unshuttered casement, hid from sight, The level sunshine slants, its ...
I Over the yawning chimney hangs the fog. Drip -- hiss -- drip -- hiss -- fall the raindrops on ...
St. Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare limp'd trembling through ...
The successful man has thrust himself Through the water of the years, Reeking wet with mistakes -- Bloody mistakes; Slimed ...
Indescribable--our love--and still we say with eyes averted, turning out the light, "I love you," in the ordinary way and ...
(France -- Ancient Regime.) I. Go away! Go away; I will not confess to you! His black biretta clings like ...
I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave! You need not clap your torches to my face. Zooks, what's to ...
ARGUMENT. Baile and Aillinn were lovers, but Aengus, the Master of Love, wishing them to he happy in his own ...
If you have revisited the town, thin Shade, Whether to look upon your monument (I wonder if the builder has ...
I crave, dear Lord, No boundless hoard Of gold and gear, Nor jewels fine, Nor lands, nor kine, Nor treasure-heaps ...
Now, man of croziers, shadows called our names And then away, away, like whirling flames; And now fled by, mist-covered, ...
BOOK FIRST. I. ALL valor died not on the plains of Troy. Awake, my Muse, awake! be thine the joy ...
If the day is done, if birds sing no more, if the wind has flagged tired, then draw the veil ...
The brave Geraint, a knight of Arthur's court, A tributary prince of Devon, one Of that great Order of the ...
1 Against the stone breakwater, Only an ominous lapping, While the wind whines overhead, Coming down from the mountain, Whistling ...
To wash and rinse our souls of their age-old sorrows, We drained a hundred jugs of wine. A splendid night ...
'Tis Christmas weather, and a country house Receives us: rooms are full: we can but get An attic-crib. Such lovers ...
But, learning now that they would have her speak, She threw her wet hair backward from her brow, Her hand ...
Sweet serene sky-like flower, Haste to adorn her bower; From thy long cloudy bed Shoot forth thy damask head! New-startled ...
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