Funerall Elegy 3. (Ralph Knevet Poems)
When Hils, and Valleys, wrap't in sheets of snow, Did pennance for their summer luxury, And Winter old unto the world did ...
When Hils, and Valleys, wrap't in sheets of snow, Did pennance for their summer luxury, And Winter old unto the world did ...
ITHE LAST CUP OF CANARYSo, the powder's low, and the larder's clean, And surrender drapes, with its black impending,All the stage ...
FIRST GIRLMALLO lero iss im bo nero!Go where they're threshing and find me my lover,Mallo lero iss im bo bairn!SECOND ...
(For Joyce Kilmer)When the dreamy night is on, up the Hudson river,And the sheen of modern taste is dim and ...
IT'S my fear that my wake won't be quiet,Nor my wake house a silent place :For who would keep back ...
Who was my teacher at Harvard. Did not wear overcoatSaying to me as we walked across the YardCold brittle autumn ...
O HAVE you seen the Stratton floodThat's great with rain to-day?It runs beneath your wall, Lord Sands,Full of the new-mown ...
. . . party on the stage of the Earl Carroll Theatre onFeb. 23. At this party Joyce Hawley, a ...
Let's talk about love, that wonderful thing,Let's blend the scent of Venice with Paris in Spring,Let's gaze at that moon ...
On a Friend in a SanitariumAll Virgil's idyls end in sunsets; paleWith death, the past of Dante opens deep;The men ...
O a song for Joyce's Country, where the grim wild mountains be, And the wind wails over the moorland as ...
This is one spring you will not see. The fifty roses of your spray Smelt soft across that February day ...
Any poets about or bored muses fancying a day out? Rainy, windy, cold Leeds City Station Half-way through its slow ...
AGAINST THE GRAIN "Oxford be silent, I this truth must write Leeds hath for rarities undone thee quite." - William ...
1. I am thirty this November. You are still small, in your fourth year. We stand watching the yellow leaves ...
A Letter To My Aunt Discussing The Correct Approach To Modern Poetry To you, my aunt, who would explore The ...
Come, let us rejoice in James Joyce, in the greatness of this poet, king, and king of poets For he ...
I keep collecting books I know I'll never, never read; My wife and daughter tell me so, And yet I ...
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