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 ...
Hard light bathed them-a whole nation of eyeless men, Dark bipeds not aware how they were maimed. A long Process, ...
No-one explains me because There is nothing to explain. It's all right here Very clear. O for my reputations sake ...
BOOK I Deep in the shady sadness of a vale Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from ...
As if he had been poured in tar, he lies on a pillow of turf and seems to weep the ...
(i) i believed in flower-power (the triumph of the meek) the thought that what a wind could bend was not ...
Even in their accusations failing to understand his language, parables more than they could stand God's temple, the temple of ...
Even filtered sunlight, through the storm clouds, wedges of sun, piercing through the sidewalk, the driveway, the sleet, snow giving ...
Jesus more direct Opaque no more Hear his message Now it's on us February 17, 2007 12:25 (Raymond A. Foss)
A gray patina, a wash over the day the colors of my vision cold, waiting for December rain rushes, ancient ...
No Time To think, to plan, to dream, to be ready Reading slower as time goes on Words blur in ...
As a law student, I long to Relish in sloth Kick back, lounge Linger when I shouldn't Lull the hours ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
I. Your ghost will walk, you lover of trees, (If our loves remain) In an English lane, By a cornfield-side ...
This is not my home. How did I get so far from water? It must be over that way somewhere. ...
Although it is a cold evening, down by one of the fishhouses an old man sits netting, his net, in ...
The world is full of women who'd tell me I should be ashamed of myself if they had the chance. ...
All this stood upon her and was the world and stood upon her with all its fear and grace as ...
Talking of poetry, hauling the books arm-full to the table where the heads bend or gaze upward, listening, reading aloud, ...
"Seldom we find," says Solomon Don Dunce, "Half an idea in the profoundest sonnet. Through all the flimsy things we ...
Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven firstborn, Or of the Eternal coeternal beam May I express thee unblam'd? since God ...
--The Carpathian Frontier, October, 1968 --for my brother Once, in a foreign country, I was suddenly ill. I was driving ...
Yours is the shame and sorrow, But the disgrace is mine; Your love was dark and thorough, Mine was the ...
Rain filled the streets once a year, rising almost to door and window sills, battering walls and roofs until it ...
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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