The Book of Hours of Sister Clotilde (Amy Lowell Poem)
The Bell in the convent tower swung. High overhead the great sun hung, A navel for the curving sky. The ...
The Bell in the convent tower swung. High overhead the great sun hung, A navel for the curving sky. The ...
In the market-place of Bruges stands the belfry old and brown; Thrice consumed and thrice rebuilded, still it watches o'er ...
When the dying flame of day Through the chancel shot its ray, Far the glimmering tapers shed Faint light on ...
Like summer in some countries and like rain in mine, for nuns like God, for drunks like beer, like food ...
Our Father who art in heaven, I am drunk. Again. Red wine. For which I offer thanks. I ought to ...
To the happy memory of five Franciscan Nuns exiles by the Falk Laws drowned between midnight and morning of Dec. ...
Orange blossoms blowing over Castile children begging for coins I met my love under an orange tree or was it ...
Millions of babies watching the skies Bellies swollen, with big round eyes On Jessore Road--long bamboo huts Noplace to shit ...
EXAMPLE often proves of sov'reign use; At other times it cherishes abuse; 'Tis not my purpose, howsoe'er, to tell Which ...
I LATELY vowed to leave the nuns alone, So oft their freaks have in my page been shown. The subject ...
ONCE more permit me, nuns, and this the last; I can't resist, whatever may have passed, But must relate, what ...
SOLICITED I've been to give a tale, In which (though true, decorum must prevail), The subject from a picture shall ...
WHEN Cupid with his dart, would hearts assail, The rampart most secure is not the VEIL; A husband better will ...
DAN CUPID, though the god of soft amour, In ev'ry age works miracles a store; Can Catos change to male ...
Sent off to boarding school at twelve, with a pair of oxfords, a pair of patents, my sterling silver christening ...
I love to lick English the way I licked the hard round licorice sticks the Belgian nuns gave me for ...
I am poor brother Lippo, by your leave! You need not clap your torches to my face. Zooks, what's to ...
we have everything and we have nothing and some men do it in churches and some men do it by ...
A Poem for Three Voices Setting: A Maternity Ward and round about FIRST VOICE: I am slow as the world. ...
"Am I, at bottom, that fervent little Spanish Catholic child who chastised herself for loving toys, who forbade herself the ...
Within this sober Frame expect Work of no Forrain Architect; That unto Caves the Quarries drew, And Forrests did to ...
To-day the woods are trembling through and through With shimmering forms, that flash before my view, Then melt in green ...
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