A Tale of Starvation (Amy Lowell Poem)
There once was a man whom the gods didn't love, And a disagreeable man was he. He loathed his neighbours, ...
There once was a man whom the gods didn't love, And a disagreeable man was he. He loathed his neighbours, ...
Let the light of late afternoon shine through chinks in the barn, moving up the bales as the sun moves ...
"The Village That Voted the Earth Was Flat"-- A Diversity of Creatures The Soldier may forget his Sword, The Sailorman ...
All winter the fire devoured everything -- tear-stained elegies, old letters, diaries, dead flowers. When April finally arrived, I opened ...
When things are hard and troublesome, And life for you looks dim; Bills and debts grow daily, And finances seem ...
God's voice guiding showing us the way hoe to live in this time our walk in this world What words ...
Hear the Lord's calling to all of the shepherds each of us who are sheep called to heal our neighbors ...
A motorized voyeur Driving down the road By the farm At the cusp of autumn A figure toiling in the ...
I let myself in at the kitchen door. "It's you," she said. "I can't get up. Forgive me Not answering ...
When a friend calls to me from the road And slows his horse to a meaning walk, I don't stand ...
What is -- "Paradise" -- Who live there -- Are they "Farmers" -- Do they "hoe" -- Do they know ...
Washing the hoe-- ripples on the water; far off, wild ducks. (Yosa Buson)
(PIANO DI SORRENTO.) Fortu, Frotu, my beloved one, Sit here by my side, On my knees put up both little ...
The track that led to Carmody's is choked and overgrown, The suckers of the stringybark have made the place their ...
You never heard tell of the story? Well, now, I can hardly believe! Never heard of the honour and glory ...
Higgledy piggledy, my black hen, She lays eggs for gentlemen. Gentlemen come every day To count what my black hen ...
Drake he's in his hammock an' a thousand miles away, (Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?) Slung atween the round ...
BOWED by the weight of centuries he leans Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground, The emptiness of ages ...
The literate are ill-prepared for this snap in the line of life: the day turns a trick of twisted tongues ...
Once from a big, big building, When I was small, small, The queer folk in the windows Would smile at ...
Let us abandon then our gardens and go home And sit in the sitting-room Shall the larkspur blossom or the ...
Set the foot down with distrust upon the crust of the world-it is thin. Moles are at work beneath us; ...
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