The Quaker Graveyard in Nantucket (Robert Lowell Poem)
(For Warren Winslow, Dead At Sea) Let man have dominion over the fishes of the sea and the fowls of ...
(For Warren Winslow, Dead At Sea) Let man have dominion over the fishes of the sea and the fowls of ...
THROUGH my north window, in the wintry weather,-- My airy oriel on the river shore,-- I watch the sea-fowl as ...
on a deformed request in a train lavatory gentlemen lift the sea be all of you the modern muscular mountains ...
In the rocks, the ledge, the outcropping of the glacier below the cliffs, the lighthouse small tidepools bits of warming ...
The jetty changed, when the tide came in turned its course and headed out once more There were pools, caught ...
Memory: I can take my head and strike it on a wall on Cumberland Island Where the night tide came ...
I'll tell thee everything I can: There's little to relate. I saw an aged aged man, A-sitting on a gate. ...
'Haddock's Eyes' or 'The Aged Aged Man' or 'Ways and Means' or 'A-Sitting On A Gate' I'll tell thee everything ...
I'll tell thee everything I can; There's little to relate. I saw an aged aged man, A-sitting on a gate. ...
"Thou thoughtest that I was altogether such a one as thyself." (David, Psalms 50.21) ['Will sprawl, now that the heat ...
Rain drenches the patio stones. All night was spent waiting for an earthquake, and instead water stains sand with its ...
Adieu to Belashanny! where I was bred and born; Go where I may, I'll think of you, as sure as ...
WHEN icicles hang by the wall, And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, And Tom bears logs into the hall, ...
When icicles hang by the wall And Dick the shepherd blows his nail And Tom bears logs into the hall, ...
THE BALLOONS hang on wires in the Marigold Gardens. They spot their yellow and gold, they juggle their blue and ...
I I dream of journeys repeatedly: Of flying like a bat deep into a narrowing tunnel Of driving alone, without ...
Children running into izba, Calling father, dripping sweat: "Daddy, daddy! come -- there is a Deadman caught inside our net." ...
Frost apple on a knotted whirling bough of dark becoming where it cannot be. So much both for the soil ...
Oh! beautiful Oban with your lovely bay, Your surroundings are magnificent on a fine summer-day; There the lover of the ...
wade through black jade. Of the crow-blue mussel-shells, one keeps adjusting the ash-heaps; opening and shutting itself like an injured ...
The first time I drank gin I thought it must be hair tonic. My brother swiped the bottle from a ...
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