Sword Blades and Poppy Seed (Amy Lowell Poem)
A drifting, April, twilight sky, A wind which blew the puddles dry, And slapped the river into waves That ran ...
A drifting, April, twilight sky, A wind which blew the puddles dry, And slapped the river into waves That ran ...
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk, Or emptied some ...
1 Let observation with extensive view, 2 Survey mankind, from China to Peru; 3 Remark each anxious toil, each eager ...
Sitting down with evil giving lies a stage complicit in their propaganda giving voice to their rage The opiate of ...
The delusion of power of central authority unwilling to leave in the face of the protest The price of his ...
Whisper of his delusions an opiate of his making chilling in its measure its potential to kill to harm his ...
Voices finding their voice people shouting for justice in the days of freedom the people cry out So many voices ...
The world, the tyrants the lies to the people the opiate of the masses the yoke of oppression false gods, ...
The bright lights and tinsel the flashing sale prices lulling us to slumber the opiate of shopping as if this ...
drinking the opiate of wealth the self-made man philosophy Horatio Alger story of our age a lie, a false idol, ...
IN Eastern climes, by means considered new; The Mount's old-man, with terrors would pursue; His large domains howe'er were not ...
Why do you whisper so faintly in my ears, O Death, my Death? When the flowers droop in the evening ...
Someone is harshly coughing on the next floor, Sudden excitement catching the flesh of his throat: Who is the sick ...
He drowsed and was aware of silence heaped Round him, unshaken as the steadfast walls; Aqueous like floating rays of ...
Swiftly walk over the western wave, Spirit of Night! Out of the misty eastern cave Where, all the long and ...
SWIFTLY walk o'er the western wave, Spirit of Night! Out of the misty eastern cave,-- Where, all the long and ...
Come, bright-eyed maid, Pure offspring of the tranquil mind, Haste, my fev'rish temples bind With olive wreaths of em'rald hue ...
Farewell, ye coral caves, ye pearly sands, Ye waving woods that crown yon lofty steep; Farewell, ye Nereides of the ...
NOTHING so true as what you once let fall, "Most Women have no Characters at all." Matter too soft a ...
At midnight, in the month of June, I stand beneath the mystic moon. An opiate vapor, dewy, dim, Exhales from ...
Undoubtedly he will relent, and turn From his displeasure; in whose look serene, When angry most he seemed and most ...
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