The Bombardment (Amy Lowell Poem)
Slowly, without force, the rain drops into the city. It stops a moment on the carved head of Saint John, ...
Slowly, without force, the rain drops into the city. It stops a moment on the carved head of Saint John, ...
I Over the yawning chimney hangs the fog. Drip -- hiss -- drip -- hiss -- fall the raindrops on ...
Fish "So . . ." they said, With their wine-glasses delicately poised, Mocking at the thing they cannot understand. "So ...
A drifting, April, twilight sky, A wind which blew the puddles dry, And slapped the river into waves That ran ...
The nursery fire burns brightly, crackling in cheerful little explosions and trails of sparks up the back of the chimney. ...
Rose Red's hair is brown as fur and shines in firelight as she prepares supper of honey and apples, curds ...
"As unto the bow the cord is, So unto the man is woman; Though she bends him, she obeys him, ...
Never stoops the soaring vulture On his quarry in the desert, On the sick or wounded bison, But another vulture, ...
X. Hiawatha's Wooing "As unto the bow the cord is, So unto the man is woman, Though she bends him, ...
When the hours of Day are numbered, And the voices of the Night Wake the better soul, that slumbered, To ...
A dying firelight slides along the quirt Of the cast iron cowboy where he leans Against my father's books. The ...
December 1899 I She sits in the tawny vapour That the Thames-side lanes have uprolled, Behind whose webby fold-on-fold Like ...
When outside the icy rain Comes leaping helter-skelter, Shall I tie my restive brain Snugly under shelter? Shall I make ...
The fire upon the hearth is low, And there is stillness everywhere, While like winged spirits, here and there, The ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
Tales in the beginning didn't begin in the telling, they would have started no doubt, but not without a concrete ...
Colours in lamplight are previews, scarcely eschewed as wave-length turbulence tuned to closeness and friendship. Colours in firelight are skin-warmed ...
I There was an ancient City, stricken down With a strange frenzy, and for many a day They paced from ...
A little while, a little while, The weary task is put away, And I can sing and I can smile, ...
I came back late and tired last night Into my little room, To the long chair and the firelight And ...
There is darkness behind the light -- and the pale light drips Cold on vague shapes and figures, that, half-seen ...
Roses ruddy and roses white, What are the joys that my heart discloses? Sitting alone in the fading light Memories ...
There was movement at the station, for the word has passed around That the colt from old Regret had got ...
In our old shipwrecked days there was an hour, When in the firelight steadily aglow, Joined slackly, we beheld the ...
In our old shipwrecked days there was an hour, When in the firelight steadily aglow, Joined slackly, we beheld the ...
Outside the afterlight's lucent rose Is smiting the hills and brimming the valleys, And shadows are stealing across the snows; ...
Sleeping together... how tired you were... How warm our room... how the firelight spread On walls and ceiling and great ...
Only until this cigarette is ended, A little moment at the end of all, While on the floor the quiet ...
Somewhere the long mellow note of the blackbird Quickens the unclasping hands of hazel, Somewhere the wind-flowers fling their heads ...
There are only two things now, The great black night scooped out And this fireglow. This fireglow, the core, And ...
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