A Roxbury Garden (Amy Lowell Poem)
I Hoops Blue and pink sashes, Criss-cross shoes, Minna and Stella run out into the garden To play at hoop. ...
I Hoops Blue and pink sashes, Criss-cross shoes, Minna and Stella run out into the garden To play at hoop. ...
Bath The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air. The ...
They lie, the men who tell us for reasons of their own That want is here a stranger, and that ...
(For Alden March) With drooping sail and pennant That never a wind may reach, They float in sunless waters Beside ...
Abdhur Rahman, the Durani Chief, of him is the story told. His mercy fills the Khyber hills -- his grace ...
My body, eh? Friend Death, how now? Why all this tedious pomp of writ? Thou hast reclaimed it sure and ...
A bird that I don't know, Hunched on his light-pole like a scarecrow, Looks sideways out into the wheat The ...
The fine delight that fathers thought; the strong Spur, live and lancing like the blowpipe flame, Breathes once and, quenchèd ...
Delayed till she had ceased to know -- Delayed till in its vest of snow Her loving bosom lay -- ...
Heart! We will forget him! You and I -- tonight! You may forget the warmth he gave -- I will ...
The country ever has a lagging Spring, Waiting for May to call its violets forth, And June its roses--showers and ...
AFAR 1 the illustrious Exile roams, Whom kingdoms on this day should hail; An inmate in the casual shed, On ...
1 OUT of the cradle endlessly rocking, Out of the mocking-bird's throat, the musical shuttle, Out of the Ninth-month midnight, ...
My life is like a music-hall, Where, in the impotence of rage, Chained by enchantment to my stall, I see ...
A beggar in the street I saw, Who held a hand like withered claw, As cold as clay; But as ...
This is the yarn he told me As we sat in Casey's Bar, That Rooshun mug who scammed from the ...
To rest my fagged brain now and then, When wearied of my proper labors, I lay aside my lagging pen ...
THE SINS of Kalamazoo are neither scarlet nor crimson. The sins of Kalamazoo are a convict gray, a dishwater drab. ...
Little white love, your way you've taken; Now I am left alone, alone. Little white love, my heart's forsaken. (Whom ...
As I lie at rest on a patch of clover In the Western Park when the day is done. I ...
With beating heart and lagging feet, Lord, I approach the Judgment-seat. All bring hither the fruits of toil, Measures of ...
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