Pickthorn Manor (Amy Lowell Poem)
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
"Was I at Eureka?" His figure was drawn to a youthful height, And a flood of proud recollections made the ...
In those days the Evil Spirits, All the Manitos of mischief, Fearing Hiawatha's wisdom, And his love for Chibiabos, Jealous ...
The cunning, the lying word denying the word of God So much of the loss we know in the listening ...
WHAT various ways in which a thing is told Some truth abuse, while others fiction hold; In stories we invention ...
Take heed of loving me; At least remember I forbade it thee; Not that I shall repair my unthrifty waste ...
'Tis done---and shivering in the gale The bark unfurls her snowy sail; And whistling o'er the bending mast, Loud sings ...
'Twas after dread Pultowa's day, When fortune left the royal Swede - Around a slaughtered army lay, No more to ...
"Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er ...
A Fragment of a Turkish Tale The tale which these disjointed fragments present, is founded upon circumstances now less common ...
"Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er ...
I My hair is gray, but not with years, Nor grew it white In a single night, As men's have ...
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
Swift as a spirit hastening to his task Of glory & of good, the Sun sprang forth Rejoicing in his ...
ROSALIND, HELEN, and her Child. SCENE. The Shore of the Lake of Como. HELEN Come hither, my sweet Rosalind. 'T ...
Fear, like a living fire that only death Might one day cool, had now in Avon's eyes Been witness for ...
"Am I, at bottom, that fervent little Spanish Catholic child who chastised herself for loving toys, who forbade herself the ...
Frost apple on a knotted whirling bough of dark becoming where it cannot be. So much both for the soil ...
Margaret Simpson was the daughter of humble parents in the county of Ayr, With a comely figure, and face of ...
My lover died a century ago, Her dear heart stricken by my sland'rous breath, Wherefore the Gods forbade that I ...
Upon her breast her hands and hair Were tangled all together. The moon of June forbade me not - The ...
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