The House Of Dust: Part 03: 12: Witches’ Sabbath (Conrad Aiken Poems)
Now, when the moon slid under the cloud And the cold clear dark of starlight fell, He heard in his ...
Now, when the moon slid under the cloud And the cold clear dark of starlight fell, He heard in his ...
'This envelope you say has something in it Which once belonged to your dead son-or something He knew, was fond ...
What shall we talk of? Li Po? Hokusai? You narrow your long dark eyes to fascinate me; You smile a ...
The cigarette-smoke loops and slides above us, Dipping and swirling as the waiter passes; You strike a match and stare ...
Two lovers, here at the corner, by the steeple, Two lovers blow together like music blowing: And the crowd dissolves ...
Over the darkened city, the city of towers, The city of a thousand gates, Over the gleaming terraced roofs, the ...
The round red sun heaves darkly out of the sea. The walls and towers are warmed and gleam. Sounds go ...
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 ...
Under Mirabeau Bridge runs the Seine And our loves Must I remember them Joy came always after pain Let arriving ...
Far from the Rappahannock, the silent Danube moves along toward the sea. The brown and green Nile rolls slowly Like ...
Not under foreign skies Nor under foreign wings protected - I shared all this with my own people There, where ...
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless ...
Light flows our war of mocking words, and yet, Behold, with tears mine eyes are wet! I feel a nameless ...
A wanderer is man from his birth. He was born in a ship On the breast of the river of ...
Gone are the days when you could walk on water. When you could walk. The days are gone. Only one ...
My daughter plays on the floor with plastic letters, red, blue & hard yellow, learning how to spell, spelling, how ...
HOW pleasant the banks of the clear winding Devon, With green spreading bushes and flow'rs blooming fair! But the boniest ...
NO more, ye warblers of the wood! no more; Nor pour your descant grating on my soul; Thou young-eyed Spring! ...
the lady has me temporarily off the bottle and now the pecker stands up better. however, things change overnight-- instead ...
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