The Rose Family – Song 1 (Louisa May Alcott Poem)
O flower at my window Why blossom you so fair, With your green and purple cup Upturned to sun and ...
O flower at my window Why blossom you so fair, With your green and purple cup Upturned to sun and ...
Per me si va ne la citt? dolente, per me si va ne l'etterno dolore, per me si va tra ...
I have a life that did not become, that turned aside and stopped, astonished: I hold it in me like ...
Just when I thought there wasn't room enough for another thought in my head, I had this great idea-- call ...
As Parmigianino did it, the right hand Bigger than the head, thrust at the viewer And swerving easily away, as ...
Orpheus liked the glad personal quality Of the things beneath the sky. Of course, Eurydice was a part Of this. ...
God knows it, I am with you. If to prize Those virtues, priz'd and practis'd by too few, But priz'd, ...
Coldly, sadly descends The autumn-evening. The field Strewn with its dank yellow drifts Of wither'd leaves, and the elms, Fade ...
Come, dear children, let us away; Down and away below! Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great ...
He was the sort of man who wouldn't hurt a fly. Many flies are now alive while he is not. ...
There is nothing to be afraid of, it is only the wind changing to the east, it is only your ...
The night has been long, The wound has been deep, The pit has been dark, And the walls have been ...
Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years? They are leaning their young ...
The Sun does arise, And make happy the skies. The merry bells ring, To welcome the Spring. The sky-lark and ...
When voices of children are heard on the green And laughing is heard on the hill, My heart is at ...
arrive. The Ladies from the Ladies' Betterment League Arrive in the afternoon, the late light slanting In diluted gold bars ...
I love to rise in a summer morn, When the birds sing on every tree; The distant huntsman winds his ...
we have everything and we have nothing and some men do it in churches and some men do it by ...
self-congratulatory nonsense as the famous gather to applaud their seeming greatness you wonder where the real ones are what giant ...
I can remember starving in a small room in a strange city shades pulled down, listening to classical music I ...
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