Song Of A Second April (Edna St. Vincent Millay Poems)
April this year, not otherwiseThan April of a year ago,Is full of whispers, full of sighs,Of dazzling mud and dingy ...
April this year, not otherwiseThan April of a year ago,Is full of whispers, full of sighs,Of dazzling mud and dingy ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
My stock lies dead and no increase Doth my dull husbandry improve: O let thy graces without cease Drop from ...
The tractor stands frozen - an agony To think of. All night Snow packed its open entrails. Now a head-pincering ...
It nests in the hollow of my pelvis, I carry it with both hands, as if offering my stomach, as ...
Thou hast committed- Fornication: but that was in another country, And besides, the wench is dead. The Jew of Malta. ...
a stone at dawn cold water in the basin these walls' rough plaster imageless after the hammering of so much ...
It's what the kids nowadays call weed. And it drifts like clouds from his lips. He hopes no one comes ...
The murkiness of the local garage is not so dense that you cannot make out the calendar of pinup drawings ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
(PIANO DI SORRENTO.) Fortu, Frotu, my beloved one, Sit here by my side, On my knees put up both little ...
Whether it was putting in an extra beat, or leaving one out, I couldn't tell. My heart seemed to have ...
MOORING POSTS 1 The mooring posts marked on the South Leeds map Of 1908 still line the Aire's side, huge, ...
Morn in the wake of the morning star Came furrowing all the orient into gold. We rose, and each by ...
a prayer O Mary, fragile mother, hear me, hear me now although I do not know your words. The black ...
'Pass it along, the wiring party's going out'- And yawning sentries mumble, 'Wirers going out.' Unravelling; twisting; hammering stakes with ...
MAKE war songs out of these; Make chants that repeat and weave. Make rhythms up to the ragtime chatter of ...
He's gone. She can't believe it, can't go on. She's going to give up painting. So she paints Her final ...
After the red leaf and the gold have gone, Brought down by the wind, then by hammering rain Bruised and ...
There would be a knock at the door And I would arise at midnight and go to the shop, Where ...
April this year, not otherwise Than April of a year ago, Is full of whispers, full of sighs, Of dazzling ...
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