The Soldier (Gerard Manley Hopkins Poem)
Yes. Why do we ?ll, seeing of a soldier, bless him? bless Our redcoats, our tars? Both these being, the ...
Yes. Why do we ?ll, seeing of a soldier, bless him? bless Our redcoats, our tars? Both these being, the ...
The clock of my days winds down. The cat eats sparrows outside my window. Once, she brought me a small ...
The old woman across the way is whipping the boy again and shouting to the neighborhood her goodness and his ...
She gives him his eyes, she found them Among some rubble, among some beetles He gives her her skin He ...
i i shall die yearning a hand reaching out to a face that isn't there a face seeking a hand ...
(1) a great man there was a great man so great he couldn't be criticised in the light who died ...
I'll tell you something: every day people are dying. And that's just the beginning. Every day, in funeral homes, new ...
ONCE more permit me, nuns, and this the last; I can't resist, whatever may have passed, But must relate, what ...
He reads my latest attempt at a poem and is silent for a long time, until it feels like that ...
The flock of pigeons rises over the roof, and just beyond them, the shimmering asphalt fields gather their dull colored ...
Of all our antic sights and pageantry Which English idiots run in crowds to see, The Polish Medal bears the ...
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, Before polygamy was made a sin; When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, ...
Although it is night, I sit in the bathroom, waiting. Sweat prickles behind my knees, the baby-breasts are alert. Venetian ...
As virtuous men pass mildly away, And whisper to their souls to go, Whilst some of their sad friends do ...
As willing lid o'er weary eye The Evening on the Day leans Till of all our nature's House Remains but ...
October. Here in this dank, unfamiliar kitchen I study my father's embarrassed young man's face. Sheepish grin, he holds in ...
To at last be indestructible, a poem must first glow, almost flammable, upon a thing inert, as gray, as dull ...
Kind o'er the kinderbank leans my Myfanwy, White o'er the playpen the sheen of her dress, Fresh from the bathroom ...
I. THE GARDEN. ABOVE the city hung the moon, Right o'er a plot of ground Where flowers and orchard-trees were ...
'NO VISITORS' I thumb the roller to and leans against the door. Comfortable in my horseblanket I prop on the ...
Oh, to be in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the ...
SHE wanders in the April woods, That glisten with the fallen shower; She leans her face against the buds, She ...
She looks out in the blue morning and sees a whole wonderful world she looks out in the morning and ...
As evening falls, The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving, ...
Now, when the moon slid under the cloud And the cold clear dark of starlight fell, He heard in his ...
We sit together and talk, or smoke in silence. You say (but use no words) 'this night is passing As ...
Two lovers, here at the corner, by the steeple, Two lovers blow together like music blowing: And the crowd dissolves ...
Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers The golden lights go out . . . The yellow windows darken, ...
One, from his high bright window in a tower, Leans out, as evening falls, And sees the advancing curtain of ...
A Rock, A River, A Tree Hosts to species long since departed, Mark the mastodon. The dinosaur, who left dry ...
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