The Death Of Kwasind (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poem)
Far and wide among the nations Spread the name and fame of Kwasind; No man dared to strive with Kwasind, ...
Far and wide among the nations Spread the name and fame of Kwasind; No man dared to strive with Kwasind, ...
As I was spittin' into the Ditch aboard o' the Crocodile, I seed a man on a man-o'-war got up ...
So rich the stew the memory coming back to me the paddle blade cut into the water pulling up lily ...
The skin of the lake sliced not quite silently the fiberglass keel cutting the waves yet almost still after midnight ...
I brought one of my canoe paddles to the poetry presentation at school passing it around in the classroom watching ...
God descended from heaven onto this mortal plane revealed as an infant to suffer and die in pain But more ...
The canoe paddle, cuts through the surface, the skin of the lake, breaking the water's surface stirring the water as ...
Carving through the waters All is at peace Nature all around me One with the paddle, with the water Echoes ...
At 1:00 in the morning on a moonlit, starlit night in northern Maine, in the Allagash Wilderness silent strangers, worked ...
The mallards Paddle before me Male and Female Two abreast One wake. Written Sunday July 23, 2000, at 9pm (Raymond ...
The sun drops behind the shore, The sky aglow. Nightfall on the water. I pull and push The canoe away ...
Board meeting over Stars and clouds call. Alone on the lake, Time to unwind. 11 o'clock under A moonlit sky. ...
Eight silent canoes Pushed off onto the still waters At 2am on a July night. The full moon and stars ...
Life is simple. In my canoe. Strokes in the water propel me forward. I chart my course around the cove. ...
The paddle and I Out in the middle of The churning lake. The wind pushed the bow Turning me around. ...
Campsite set Late afternoon Late June Grab a friend Get the canoe Head up the brook The tributary Portage through ...
I stay; But it isn't as if There wasn't always Hudson's Bay And the fur trade, A small skiff And ...
I'll tell of Canute, King of England, A native of Denmark was he, His hobbies was roving and raiding And ...
The chatter of a death-demon from a tree-top Blood -- blood and torn grass -- Had marked the rise of ...
(As Distinguished by an Italian Person of Quality) I Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare, ...
I The bitterness. the misery, the wretchedness of childhood Put me out of love with God. I can't believe in ...
Long ago in a poultry yard One dull November morn, Beneath a motherly soft wing A little goose was born. ...
The moon shimmers in green water. White herons fly through the moonlight. The young man hears a girl gathering water-chestnuts: ...
Children running into izba, Calling father, dripping sweat: "Daddy, daddy! come -- there is a Deadman caught inside our net." ...
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