Renascence (Edna St. Vincent Millay Poems)
All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood; I turned and looked another ...
All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood; I turned and looked another ...
What would'st thou have for easement after grief, When the rude world hath used thee with despite, And care sits at thine elbow day and night, Filching thy pleasures like a subtle thief? To me, when life besets me in such wise, 'Tis sweetest to break forth, to drop the chain, And grasp the freedom of this pleasant earth, To roam in idleness and sober mirth, Through summer airs and summer lands, and drain The comfort of wide fields unto tired eyes. By hills and waters, farms and solitudes, To wander by the day with wilful feet; Through fielded valleys wide with yellowing wheat; Along gray roads that run between deep woods, Murmurous and cool; through hallowed slopes of pine, Where the long daylight dreams, unpierced, unstirred, And only the rich-throated thrush is heard; By lonely forest brooks that froth and shine In bouldered crannies buried in the hills; By broken beeches tangled with wild vine, And long-strewn rivers murmurous with mills. In upland pastures, sown with gold, and sweet With the keen perfume of the ripening grass, Where wings of birds and filmy shadows pass, Spread thick as stars with shining marguerite: To haunt old fences overgrown with brier, Muffled in vines, and hawthorns, and wild cherries, Rank poisonous ivies, red-bunched elder-berries, And pièd blossoms to the heart's desire, Gray mullein towering into yellow bloom, Pink-tasseled milkweed, breathing dense perfume, And swarthy vervain, tipped with violet fire. To hear at eve the bleating of far flocks, The mud-hen's whistle from the marsh at morn; To skirt with deafened ears and brain o'erborne Some foam-filled rapid charging down its rocks With iron roar of waters; far away Across wide-reeded meres, pensive with noon, To hear the querulous outcry of the loon; To lie among deep rocks, and watch all day On liquid heights the snowy clouds melt by; Or hear from wood-capped mountain-brows the jay Pierce the bright morning with his jibing cry. To feast on summer sounds; the jolted wains, The thresher humming from the farm near by, The prattling cricket's intermittent cry, The locust's rattle from the sultry lanes; Or in the shadow of some oaken spray, To watch, as through a mist of light and dreams, The far-off hayfields, where the dusty teams Drive round and round the lessening squares of hay, And hear upon the wind, now loud, now low, With drowsy cadence half a summer's day, The clatter of the reapers come and go. Far violet hills, horizons filmed with showers, The murmur of cool streams, the forest's gloom, The voices of the breathing grass, the hum Of ancient gardens overbanked with flowers: Thus, with a smile as golden as the dawn, And cool fair fingers radiantly divine, The mighty mother brings us in her hand, For all tired eyes and foreheads pinched and wan, Her restful cup, her beaker of bright wine: Drink, and be filled, and ye shall understand!(Archibald Lampman)
Down beside the loathly Pitch Lake,In the stately Morichal,Sat an ancient Spanish Indian,Peering through the columns tall.Watching vainly for the ...
I made an ascent of the Eiger Last year, which has ne'er been surpassed; 'Twas dangerous, long, and laborious, ...
(Erinna was a Greek poetess, a friend and pupil of Sappho of Lesbos. She died at the age of nineteen.) ...
The homeless winds that wander o'er the land; The deep-voiced thunder speaking words of fire; The waves that break in ...
You bid me not to love too well,To clip my fancy's wings;Not to believe the tales she'll tell,Nor listen when ...
Ah, Christ, I love you rings to the wild skyAnd I must think a little of the past:When I was ...
"Old women look intently at Nothing when the doctor announces a cancer, dark fruit, under the shrunk left breast.Girls' hands ...
After rain, through afterglow, the unfolding fan of railway landscape sidled onthe pivot of a larger arc into the green ...
Maiden! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Like the dusk in evening skies! Thou whose ...
I hadn't had the 'flu in ages, avoided all those awful places fraught of gritty eyes and splitting heads, patrons ...
Some may have blamed you that you took away The verses that could move them on the day When, the ...
For Horace Gregory After rain, through afterglow, the unfolding fan of railway landscape sidled onthe pivot of a larger arc ...
I am a reaper whose muscles set at sundown. All my oats are cradled. But I am too chilled, and ...
Silence is a great blue bell Swinging and ringing, tinkling and singing, In measure's pleasure, and in the supple symmetry ...
Beyond the Rocking Bridge it lies, the burg of evil fame, The huts where hive and swarm and thrive the ...
This is the yarn he told me As we sat in Casey's Bar, That Rooshun mug who scammed from the ...
Weary and listless, sad and slow, Without any conversation, Was a man that worked on The Overflow, The butt of ...
All I could see from where I stood Was three long mountains and a wood; I turned and looked another ...
Vous êtes sorti sain et sauf des basses calomnies, vous avey conquis les coeurs. Zola, J'accuse One was kicked in ...
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