Song Of Despair (Pablo Neruda Poems)
The memory of you emerges from the night around me.The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea.Deserted like the ...
The memory of you emerges from the night around me.The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea.Deserted like the ...
O MY lost beauty!--hast thou folded quiteThy wings of morning lightBeyond those iron gatesWhere Life crowds hurrying to the haggard ...
As one who cons at evening o'er an album all alone,And muses on the faces of the friends that he ...
The flags of war like storm birds fly, The charging trumpets blow;Yet rolls no thunder in the sky, No earthquake strives below.And, ...
My dream was such: It seemed the afternoon Of some deep tropic day, and yet a moon Stood round and full with largeness ...
O'ER all the fragrant land this harvest day,What bounteous sheaves are garnered, ear and blade!Whether the heavens be golden-glad, or ...
O beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, For purple mountain majesties Above the fruited plain! America! America! God shed His grace on ...
WHAT songs found voice upon those lips, What magic dwelt within the pen,Whose music into silence slips, Whose spell lives not again!For ...
O painter of the fruits and flowers,We own wise design,Where these human hands of oursMay share work of Thine!Apart from ...
SO quietly the alien nightStirs in the cinnamon and musk,And at the borders of the duskThe Orient day fails, light ...
I wonder if the spell, the mystery,That like a haze about your silence clings,Moulding your void until we seem to ...
I hear them speak of a Fed'ral siteWhere shall arise a city bright -Mother, where is this bonzer spot?Shall we ...
We roam about the countrysideAnd view the farmlands rolling wide - A picture surely this of peace, of planty.We mark ...
WINDS that fanning close and byre Scarce the fading leafage stir;Scarlet berries on the briar, Each a rose's sepulchre.Crimson ...
When Julius Fabricius, Sub-Prefect of the Weald, In the days of Diocletian owned our Lower River-field, He called to him ...
Pan came out of the woods one day,-- His skin and his hair and his eyes were gray, The gray ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
NOW westlin winds and slaught'ring guns Bring Autumn's pleasant weather; The moorcock springs on whirring wings Amang the blooming heather: ...
Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand Green-walled ...
The memory of you emerges from the night around me. The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea. Deserted ...
Of Heaven or Hell I have no power to sing, I cannot ease the burden of your fears, Or make ...
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