Ode To A Nightingale (John Keats Poem)
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some ...
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some ...
A Nation of trees, drab green and desolate grey In the field uniform of modern wars, Darkens her hills, those ...
(a) orihuela-time the sun in orihuela calms the dust and people glide about the streets at ease (problems left indoors ...
Millions of babies watching the skies Bellies swollen, with big round eyes On Jessore Road--long bamboo huts Noplace to shit ...
S'io credesse che mia risposta fosse A persona che mai tornasse al mondo, Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. Ma ...
Consecrated to the Glorious Memory of His Most Serene and Renowned Highness, Oliver, Late Lord Protector of This Commonwealth, etc. ...
Whangaehu waters, hot-spilled from the cauldron of Crater Lake, swirling mud-green from the cup between Tahurangi and Pyramid Peak, sulphurous, ...
It seldom snowed they said, and they were nearly right. In all of nine eventful seasons crystal white on average ...
I never said I would, I only said I could do what you wished, the subtle difference should have raised ...
The strident sounds of silence echo in a darkened room, a beggar's tomb of emptied space and barrenness, a shameful ...
Let me take this other glove off As the vox humana swells, And the beauteous fields of Eden Bask beneath ...
Ah! why, because the dazzling sun Restored our Earth to joy, Have you departed, every one, And left a desert ...
I. Gr-r-r---there go, my heart's abhorrence! Water your damned flower-pots, do! If hate killed men, Brother Lawrence, God's blood, would ...
The roaring alongside he takes for granted, and that every so often the world is bound to shake. He runs, ...
As Parmigianino did it, the right hand Bigger than the head, thrust at the viewer And swerving easily away, as ...
I'm thinking about you. What else can I say? The palm trees on the reverse are a delusion; so is ...
call it the greenhouse effect or whatever but it just doesn't rain like it used to. I particularly remember the ...
A wind, bringing willow-cotton, sweetens the shop, And a girl from Wu, pouring wine, urges me to share it. With ...
The night is only a sort of carbon paper, Blueblack, with the much-poked periods of stars Letting in the light, ...
When Ironbark the turtle came to Anthony's lagoon The hills were hid behind a mist of equinoctal rain, The ripple ...
They're kindly here, to let us linger so late, Long after the shutters are up. A waiter glides from the ...
I like walking on streets as black and wet as this one now, at two in the solemnly musical morning, ...
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