Lords Of The Visionary Eye (Madison Julius Cawein Poems)
I CAME upon a pool that shone,Clear, emerald-like, among the hills,That seemed old wizards round a stoneOf magic that a ...
I CAME upon a pool that shone,Clear, emerald-like, among the hills,That seemed old wizards round a stoneOf magic that a ...
Its rotting fence one scarcely seesThrough sumac and wild blackberries,Thick elder and the bramble-rose,Big ox-eyed daisies where the beesHang droning ...
Nasal intonations of lightand clicking tongues * * *publicity of windowsstoning me with pent-up cries * * *smells of abattoirs ...
Vast are its halls, as vast the halls and lone Where DEATH stalks listening to the wind and rain; And dark that ...
Lift not thy trumpet, Victory, to the sky, Nor through battalions nor by batteries blow, But over hollows full of old wire ...
WILD stream the clouds, and the fresh wind is singing,Red is the dawn, and the world white with rime,-Music, O ...
The earth smells dank, the weeds grow rank, The cold ...
Now Sym was a Glug; and 'tis mentioned soThat the tale reads perfectly plain as we go. In his veins ...
Whene'er I read some savage tale Of punishment devisedBy tyrants in an olden day, When serfs were victimised,I reverently tell ...
When hawthorn buds are creaming white, And the red foolscap all stuck with may,Then lasses walk with eyes alight, And ...
EACH race has died and lived and fought for the "true" gods of that poor race, Unconsciously, divinest thought of ...
NOW at the window, side by side, We sit and take our ease, And watch the ebb and flow of ...
THE long white windows blankly stare Across the sodden, tangled grass, Weed-covered are the pathways where ...
Beneath the couchant lion, grey and grim,We lit upon the last of state romance,The last of chivalrous circumstance;The Champions-each his ...
Expectantly, asking where she was She was eight, at that point, in that year my long-dead ancestor alive again in ...
THERE are some powerful odours that can pass Out of the stoppard flagon; even glass To them is porous. Oft ...
Doubt you to whom my Muse these notes intendeth, Which now my breast o'ercharged to music lendeth? To you, to ...
We can look into the stove tonight as into a mirror, yes, the serrated log, the yellow-blue gaseous core the ...
What is my name to you? 'T will die: a wave that has but rolled to reach with a lone ...
In 1936, a child in Hitler's Germany, what did I know about the war in Spain? Andalusia was a tango ...
from an officer's diary during the last war I The sour daylight cracks through my sleep-caked lids. "Stephan! Stephan!" The ...
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