Leaving the Matter Open: A Tale By Homer Wilbur, A.M. (James Russell Lowell Poems)
Two brothers once, an ill-matched pair,Together dwelt (no matter where),To whom an Uncle Sam, or some one,Had left a house ...
Two brothers once, an ill-matched pair,Together dwelt (no matter where),To whom an Uncle Sam, or some one,Had left a house ...
You know "The Teacups," that congenial setWhich round the Teapot you have often met;The grave DICTATOR, him you knew of ...
Along in early spring time, as the sun starts swinging NorthTo linger with the land it loves, and violets peep ...
Ah! poor intoxicated little knave,Now senseless, floating on the fragrant wave; Why not content the cakes alone to munch?Dearly thou pay'st ...
How do you enter that Manilaframe of mind, that wovenmat of noodle house restaurants,that dawn of tapis tasting women,that hankering ...
BOOK IV.So did that youth choose Duty before Love:And so determination drove awayThe doubts that held him with ungainly checkWavering—for ...
(Kamo-no-Chomei, born at Kamo 1154, died at Toyama on Mount Hino, 24th June 1216) Swirl sleeping in the waterfall! On ...
Lazy laughing languid Jenny,Fond of a kiss and fond of a guinea,Whose head upon my knee to-nightRests for a while, ...
I.THE flowing night awoken from my sleepRevealed a world of glory, while I stoodWatching the hazy, creeping ocean sweepOut of ...
GOD dreaming in his star-enshrouded skyBethought himself of me, so even IWho was till then as nothing, leapt to life ...
I'm living in an eastern stateAnd though I do my bestTo make it feel like home to meMy heart's still ...
No. It's an impudent falsehood. Men did not Invariably think the newer way Prosaic mad, inelegant, or what not. Was ...
so here we are at last at the ten-boy never to be the single-figure-aged-again boy and all the trailing clouds ...
october stops the pretence that somehow summer should still be loitering around it walks through the garden hanging the spiders ...
Dark clouds are smouldering into red While down the craters morning burns. The dying soldier shifts his head To watch ...
Poetry is the supreme fiction, madame. Take the moral law and make a nave of it And from the nave ...
THERE is a wolf in me . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . a red tongue for raw meat . ...
GALOOTS, you hairy, hankering, Snousle on the bones you eat, chew at the gristle and lick the last of it. ...
I All night, through the eternity of night, Pain was my potion though I could not feel. Deep in my ...
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