Summer Nights (Deborah Ager Poem)
Lamoni, Iowa The factory siren tells workers time to go home tells them the evening has begun. When living with ...
Lamoni, Iowa The factory siren tells workers time to go home tells them the evening has begun. When living with ...
Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good ...
October - and the skies are cool and gray O'er stubbles emptied of their latest sheaf, Bare meadow, and the ...
We sighing said, "Our Pan is dead; His pipe hangs mute beside the river Around it wistful sunbeams quiver, But ...
I turn the page and read: "I dream of silent verses where the rhyme Glides noiseless as an oar." The ...
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura ch? la diritta via era smarrita . ...
In measured verse I'll now rehearse The charms of lovely Anna: And, first, her mind is unconfined Like any vast ...
I taught myself to live simply and wisely, to look at the sky and pray to God, and to wander ...
1 Faster, faster, 2 O Circe, Goddess, 3 Let the wild, thronging train 4 The bright procession 5 Of eddying ...
Glion?--Ah, twenty years, it cuts All meaning from a name! White houses prank where once were huts. Glion, but not ...
The Youth Faster, faster, O Circe, Goddess, Let the wild, thronging train The bright procession Of eddying forms, Sweep through ...
And the first grey of morning fill'd the east, And the fog rose out of the Oxus stream. But all ...
In the burned house I am eating breakfast. You understand: there is no house, there is no breakfast, yet here ...
There is nothing to be afraid of, it is only the wind changing to the east, it is only your ...
You begin this way: this is your hand, this is your eye, this is a fish, blue and flat on ...
It was taken some time ago. At first it seems to be a smeared print: blurred lines and grey flecks ...
a 1. Los smitten with astonishment Frightend at the hurtling bones 2. And at the surging sulphureous Perturbed Immortal mad ...
Thou fair hair'd angel of the evening, Now, while the sun rests on the mountains light, Thy bright torch of ...
Thou fair-haired angel of the evening, Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light Thy bright torch of love; ...
Thou fair hair'd angel of the evening, Now, while the sun rests on the mountains light, Thy bright torch of ...
arrive. The Ladies from the Ladies' Betterment League Arrive in the afternoon, the late light slanting In diluted gold bars ...
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