The Fruit Shop (Amy Lowell Poem)
Cross-ribboned shoes; a muslin gown, High-waisted, girdled with bright blue; A straw poke bonnet which hid the frown She pluckered ...
Cross-ribboned shoes; a muslin gown, High-waisted, girdled with bright blue; A straw poke bonnet which hid the frown She pluckered ...
Be patient with you? When the stooping sky Leans down upon the hills And tenderly, as one who soothing stills ...
"Give me of your bark, O Birch-tree! Of your yellow bark, O Birch-tree! Growing by the rushing river, Tall and ...
And now it was evening. And Almitra the seeress said, "Blessed be this day and this place and your spirit ...
This saying good-by on the edge of the dark And the cold to an orchard so young in the bark ...
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree : Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to ...
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan A stately pleasure-dome decree: Where Alph, the sacred river, ran Through caverns measureless to man ...
I. He was a Grecian lad, who coming home With pulpy figs and wine from Sicily Stood at his galley's ...
The little white clouds are racing over the sky, And the fields are strewn with the gold of the flower ...
"Courage!" he said, and pointed toward the land, "This mounting wave will roll us shoreward soon." In the afternoon they ...
So was their sanctuary violated, So their fair college turned to hospital; At first with all confusion: by and by ...
Crowned, girdled, garbed and shod with light and fire, Son first-born of the morning, sovereign star! Soul nearest ours of ...
I. WINTER IN NORTHUMBERLAND OUTSIDE the garden The wet skies harden; The gates are barred on The summer side: "Shut ...
I loved illustrious cities and the crowds That eddy through their incandescent nights. I loved remote horizons with far clouds ...
She was a Philistine spick and span, He was a bold Bohemian. She had the mode, and the last at ...
THEY bathed in the fire-flooded fountains: Life girdled them round and about: They slept in the clefts of the mountains: ...
The memory of you emerges from the night around me. The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea. Deserted ...
Out of the fires of the sunset come we again to our own We have girdled the world in our ...
I A wide-spring meadow in a rosy dawn Bedropt with virgin buds; an orient sky Fleeced with a dappled cloud ...
Neither spite, fellow citizens, Nor forgetfulness of the shiftlessness, And the lawlessness and waste Under democracy's rule in Spoon River ...
All was taken away from you: white dresses, wings, even existence. Yet I believe you, messengers. There, where the world ...
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