The Basket (Amy Lowell Poem)
I The inkstand is full of ink, and the paper lies white and unspotted, in the round of light thrown ...
I The inkstand is full of ink, and the paper lies white and unspotted, in the round of light thrown ...
Why is that wanton gossip Fame So dumb about this man's affairs? Why do we titter at his name Who ...
The Sons of Mary seldom bother, for they have inherited that good part; But the Sons of Martha favour their ...
O SORROW! Why dost borrow The natural hue of health, from vermeil lips?-- To give maiden blushes To the white ...
I. Fair Isabel, poor simple Isabel! Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love's eye! They could not in the self-same mansion ...
Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse! O first-born on the mountains! by the hues Of heaven on the spiritual ...
[Goethe describes this much-admired Poem, which he wrote in honour of his love Lily, as being "designed to change his ...
I In the depths of the Greyhound Terminal sitting dumbly on a baggage truck looking at the sky waiting for ...
Oh it was too easy, in my rush after the traffic to the bank, the banter of the customers marking ...
Pining for peanuts praying for the nuts begging for them a gray squirrel by our porch pitch a peanut, watch ...
There was something about it the way he had things just so, from the start a level, freshly cut boards ...
I cannot eat my porridge, I weary of my play; No longer can I sleep at night, No longer romp ...
What is this life if, full of care, We have no time to stand and stare. No time to stand ...
Air a-gittin' cool an' coolah, Frost a-comin' in de night, Hicka' nuts an' wa'nuts fallin', Possum keepin' out o' sight. ...
The ones that disappeared are back The Phoebe and the Crow Precisely as in March is heard The curtness of ...
On such a night, or such a night, Would anybody care If such a little figure Slipped quiet from its ...
The morns are meeker than they were -- The nuts are getting brown -- The berry's cheek is plumper -- ...
Autunm eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends. From the nuts we shell time and we teach ...
St George he was for England, And before he killed the dragon He drank a pint of English ale Out ...
Now as an angler melancholy standing Upon a green bank yielding room for landing, A wriggling yellow worm thrust on ...
Every month or so, Sundays, we walked the line, The limit and the boundary. Past the sweet gum Superb above ...
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and ...
Sick at 6 & sick again at 9 was Henry's gloomy Monday morning oh. Still he had to lecture. They ...
I. How well I know what I mean to do When the long dark autumn-evenings come: And where, my soul, ...
UPON that night, when fairies light On Cassilis Downans 2 dance, Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze, On sprightly ...
When the green woods laugh with the voice of joy And the dimpling stream runs laughing by, When the air ...
Do the boys and girls still go to Siever's For cider, after school, in late September? Or gather hazel nuts ...
Did you know that Evian spelled backwards is naive? I myself was unaware of this fact until last Tuesday night ...
In Hayfield I imagine not just the nuts and bolts of split cockpits but a Spitfire's sunk fuselage has smoked ...
"I've been where it hurts." the Kid He becomes Sierra Kid I passed Slimgullion, Morgan Mine, Camp Seco, and the ...
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