The Allies (Amy Lowell Poem)
August 14th, 1914 Into the brazen, burnished sky, the cry hurls itself. The zigzagging cry of hoarse throats, it floats ...
August 14th, 1914 Into the brazen, burnished sky, the cry hurls itself. The zigzagging cry of hoarse throats, it floats ...
It was pleasant up the country, City Bushman, where you went, For you sought the greener patches and you travelled ...
The squatter saw his pastures wide Decrease, as one by one The farmers moving to the west Selected on his ...
Listen my children and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in ...
Taped to the wall of my cell are 47 pictures: 47 black faces: my father, mother, grandmothers (1 dead), grand- ...
I This is the sorrowful story Told when the twilight fails And the monkeys walk together Holding their neighbours' tails: ...
A bird that I don't know, Hunched on his light-pole like a scarecrow, Looks sideways out into the wheat The ...
for Hank and Nancy Seven thousand acres of grass have faded yellow from his cough. These limp days, his anger, ...
Freezing dusk is closing Like a slow trap of steel On trees and roads and hills and all That can ...
The farmer lies wide awake at night, In his heart is filled with a fright. Tomorrow he will plant his ...
Like the farmers gathering stones cleaning the fields, making them ready for the planting, the sowing the tending of the ...
Out of the woods by the creek cometh a calling for Peter, And from the orchard a voice echoes and ...
SHE stood against the kitchen sink, and looked Over the sink out through a dusty window At weeds the water ...
I let myself in at the kitchen door. "It's you," she said. "I can't get up. Forgive me Not answering ...
Sung at the Completion of the Concord Monument, April 19th, 1836 By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their ...
The blue forest, chilled and blue, like the lips of the dead if the lips were gone. The year has ...
I'm sorry for the Dead -- Today -- It's such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences -- It's time ...
'Tis not that Dying hurts us so -- 'Tis Living -- hurts us more -- But Dying -- is a ...
What is -- "Paradise" -- Who live there -- Are they "Farmers" -- Do they "hoe" -- Do they know ...
Christmass is come and every hearth Makes room to give him welcome now Een want will dry its tears in ...
The industrialist is having his aeroplane serviced. The priest is wondering what he said in his sermon eight weeks ago ...
1. Dear relatives and friends, when my last breath Grows large and free in air, don't call it death -- ...
WHEN Nature her great master-piece design'd, And fram'd her last, best work, the human mind, Her eye intent on all ...
MY lov'd, my honour'd, much respected friend! No mercenary bard his homage pays; With honest pride, I scorn each selfish ...
UPON 1 a simmer Sunday morn When Nature's face is fair, I walked forth to view the corn, An' snuff ...
White with daisies and red with sorrel And empty, empty under the sky!- Life is a quest and love a ...
Oh, lay my ashes on the wind That blows across the sea. And I shall meet a fisherman Out of ...
Down, you mongrel, Death! Back into your kennel! I have stolen breath In a stalk of fennel! You shall scratch ...
Three jolly Farmers Once bet a pound Each dance the others would Off the ground. Out of their coats They ...
That air same Jones, which lived in Jones, He had this pint about him: He'd swear with a hundred sighs ...
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