Manners (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
For a Child of 1918 My grandfather said to me as we sat on the wagon seat, "Be sure to ...
For a Child of 1918 My grandfather said to me as we sat on the wagon seat, "Be sure to ...
Because it all just breaks apart, and the pieces scatter and rearrange without much fanfare or notice. Because you can't ...
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light. The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the ...
'This envelope you say has something in it Which once belonged to your dead son-or something He knew, was fond ...
The door is shut. She leaves the curtained office, And down the grey-walled stairs comes trembling slowly Towards the dazzling ...
From time to time, lifting his eyes, he sees The soft blue starlight through the one small window, The moon ...
What shall we talk of? Li Po? Hokusai? You narrow your long dark eyes to fascinate me; You smile a ...
You read-what is it, then that you are reading? What music moves so silently in your mind? Your bright hand ...
The lamplit page is turned, the dream forgotten; The music changes tone, you wake, remember Deep worlds you lived before,-deep ...
Of what she said to me that night-no matter. The strange thing came next day. My brain was full of ...
'Number four-the girl who died on the table- The girl with golden hair-' The purpling body lies on the polished ...
Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares With purple lights in the canyoned street. The fiery sign on ...
The warm sun dreams in the dust, the warm sun falls On bright red roofs and walls; The trees in ...
Round white clouds roll slowly above the housetops, Over the clear red roofs they flow and pass. A flock of ...
Two lovers, here at the corner, by the steeple, Two lovers blow together like music blowing: And the crowd dissolves ...
The sun goes down in a cold pale flare of light. The trees grow dark: the shadows lean to the ...
The snow floats down upon us, mingled with rain . . . It eddies around pale lilac lamps, and falls ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
THE HOUSE OF DUST A Symphony BY CONRAD AIKEN To Jessie NOTE . . . Parts of this poem have ...
I. Moonlight silvers the tops of trees, Moonlight whitens the lilac shadowed wall And through the evening fall, Clearly, as ...
I The girl in the room beneath Before going to bed Strums on a mandolin The three simple tunes she ...
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind announces autumn, and the equinox rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon. ...
All lovely things will have an ending, All lovely things will fade and die, And youth, that's now so bravely ...
They tell me that your heart has been found in Iowa, pumping along Interstate 35. Do you want it back? ...
Little Cowboy, what have you heard, Up on the lonely rath's green mound? Only the plaintive yellow bird Sighing in ...
O Love! thou makest all things even In earth or heaven; Finding thy way through prison-bars Up to the stars; ...
O Love! thou makest all things even In earth or heaven; Finding thy way through prison-bars Up to the stars; ...
A quay with vessels moored Thomas To India! Yea, here I may take ship; From here the courses go over ...
In Nineveh And beyond Nineveh In the dusk They were afraid. In Thebes of Egypt In the dust They chanted ...
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