Miriam Tazewell (John Crowe Ransom Poems)
When Miriam Tazewell heard the tempest burstingAnd his wrathy whips across the sky drawn cracklingShe stuffed her ears for fright ...
When Miriam Tazewell heard the tempest burstingAnd his wrathy whips across the sky drawn cracklingShe stuffed her ears for fright ...
NOT o'er thy dust let there be spentThe gush of maudlin sentiment;Such drift as that is not for thee,Whose life ...
So maudlin, with pity and pathos I stoodIf someone who erred got the lashes;If hanged, I'd weep over the ashes.With ...
To the tune of 'Why, how now, saucy jade?'Why, how now, saucy Tom? If you thus must ramble,I will publish some Remarks ...
YOU say you envy in your calm retreatOur social Meetings;--'tis with joy we meet.In these our parties you are pleased ...
MOODS OF GINGER MICKThis book was dedicated to "THE BOYS WHO TOOK THE ...
Trembling Creation's omnipresent sun,Immanent Harmonist, Whose rhythms run.Alike where midge pursues his swift romance,Or grave stars cluster for their midnight ...
St. Regimund, e'er he became a saint,Was much imbued with vulgar earthly taint;E'er he renounced the honors of a KnightAnd ...
The harsh King—Winter—sat upon the hills, And reigned and ruled the earth right royally. He locked the rivers, ...
I am the gift of tongues that flameInspired resolve above:I wither the weeds of paltry aimThat choke the growth of ...
When, darkly brooding on this Modern Age, The journalist with his marketable woes Fills up once more the inevitable page ...
Oh, foolish flapper, keen to be Considered cute and up-to-date,Sit down a while and hark to me, And I shall ...
I've never had much truck with kings (Said old George Jones). For all my daysMy lot's been cast 'mid common ...
I AM mine own priest, and I shrive myself Of all my wasted yesterdays. Though sin And sloth and foolishness, ...
Not to lament that rival flame Wherewith the heartless Glycera scorns you,Nor waste your time in maudlin rhyme, How many ...
In maudlin spite let Thracians fight Above their bowls of liquor;But such as we, when on a spree, Should never ...
THE music blares into a ragtime tune-- The dancers whirl around the polished floor; Each powdered face a set expression ...
1814-1914 When, on a novel's newly printed page We find a maudlin eulogy of sin, And read of ways that ...
When, darkly brooding on this Modern Age, The journalist with his marketable woes Fills up once more the inevitable page ...
Shut, shut the door, good John! fatigu'd, I said, Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead. The dog-star ...
They say one king is mad. Perhaps. Who knows? They say one king is doddering and grey. They say one ...
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