Feud (Madison Julius Cawein Poems)
A mile of lane,--hedged high with iron-weeds And dying daisies,--white with sun, that leads Downward into a wood; through which a stream Steals ...
A mile of lane,--hedged high with iron-weeds And dying daisies,--white with sun, that leads Downward into a wood; through which a stream Steals ...
She passed the thorn-trees, whose gaunt branches tossedTheir spider-shadows round her; and the breeze,Beneath the ashen moon, was full of ...
If writing Journals were my task, From cottagers to kings--A little book I'd only ask, And fill it full of wings!Each pair ...
Sad Winter weeps, his tears bedew thy grave, That grave on which no kindred sorrows flow;The wailing winds around it moan ...
Acacia, burnt myrrh, velvet, pricky stings.—I'm not so young but not so very old,said screwed-up lovely 23.A final sense of ...
Is it illusion? or does there a spirit from perfecter ages, Here, even yet, amid loss, change, and corruption abide? ...
THE GENTLEMAN FARMER.Gwyn was a farmer, whom the farmers all,Who dwelt around, "the Gentleman" would call;Whether in pure humility or ...
Thou, run to the dry on this wayside bank,Too plainly of all the propellers bereft!Quenched youth, and is that thy ...
High on a gorgeous seat, that far out-shoneHenley's gilt tub, or Flecknoe's Irish throne,Or that where on her Curlls the ...
The Mighty Mother, and her son who brings The Smithfield muses to the ear of kings, I sing. Say you, ...
Give us a call! We keep good beer,Wine, and brandy, and whiskey here;Our doors are open to boys and men,And ...
I READ in our old journals of the days When our first love was April-sweet and new, How fair it ...
Posts, shards of thoughts Captured on pads, in journals Notes in the margin, doodles for outlines Is that someone I ...
Remember the 1340's? We were doing a dance called the Catapult. You always wore brown, the color craze of the ...
The meter I had sought to find, perplexed, was ripped from books of "verse" that read like prose. I found ...
Acacia, burnt myrrh, velvet, pricky stings. â?"I'm not so young but not so very old, said screwed-up lovely 23. A ...
1 BROTHER of all, with generous hand, Of thee, pondering on thee, as o'er thy tomb, I and my Soul, ...
Ne Rubeam, Pingui donatus Munere (Horace, Epistles II.i.267) While you, great patron of mankind, sustain The balanc'd world, and open ...
Madam would speak with me. So, now it comes: The Deluge or else Fire! She's well, she thanks My husbandship. ...
Madam would speak with me. So, now it comes: The Deluge or else Fire! She's well, she thanks My husbandship. ...
"He could not forget that he was a Sidney." Is this Sir Philip Sidney, this ...
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