Prevailing Winds (Lee Anderson2 Poems)
IThe bland many-eyed wallsof skyscrapers and the modestin-between brownstone housesshall not bruise the thrust of his rapier spiritrather the artist ...
IThe bland many-eyed wallsof skyscrapers and the modestin-between brownstone housesshall not bruise the thrust of his rapier spiritrather the artist ...
A green-thatched cottage was May's sweet home With velvet moss for a floor, And a clambering vine in the gay sunshine, And a ...
Five rotten gables look upon Wan rotting roses and rank weeds, Old iron gates on posts of stone, Dim dingles where the vermin ...
The night is hung above us, love, With heavy stars that love us, love, With clouds that curl in purple and pearl, And ...
When on the leaves the rain persists, And every gust brings showers down; When all the woodland smokes with mists, I take the ...
When fairy-folk sit down to supEach has for plate a buttercup,And for mug a tiny cellOf the delicate blue-bellFilled with ...
It was just a very Merry fairy dream!--All the woods were airy With the gloom and gleam;Crickets in the clover Clattered clear and ...
_Piped to the Spirit of John Keats._ I. Would that my lips might pour out in thy praise A fitting melody--an air sublime,-- A ...
ISecluded, solitary on some underbough,Or cradled in a leaf, 'mid glimmering light,Like Puck thou crouchest: Haply watching howThe slow toadstool ...
I love to hear thine earnest voice,Wherever thou art hid,Thou testy little dogmatist,Thou pretty KatydidThou mindest me of gentlefolks,(Oliver Wendell ...
When the hornet hangs in the hollyhock,And the brown bee drones i' the rose;And the west is a red-streaked four-o'clock,And ...
I. The slanted storm tossed at their feet The frost-nipped Autumn leaves; The park's high pines were caked with sleet And ice-spears armed the ...
O the old trundle-bed where I slept when a boy!What canopied king might not covet the joy?The glory and peace ...
A tranquil barOf rosy twilight under dusk's first star. A glimmering soundOf whispering waters over grassy ground. A sun-sweet smellOf fresh-reaped hay ...
(IN THE COLORADO PARK, 1873)Wot's that you're readin'?--a novel? A novel!--well, darn my skin!You a man grown and bearded and ...
And Mother couldn't go that day, But the ...
(To Annabelle.)Pipe to the tip I'm handing, Kid; Get jerry to the salve I throw;Just paste it in your merrywid ...
A languid atmosphere, a lazy breeze, With labored respiration, moves the wheat From distant reaches, till the golden seas Break ...
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