Man Overboard (Katharine Lee Bates Poems)
YOUNG, the naked stoker who wentMad with the fires and leapt to the sea,Boyhood still in the voice that sentOne ...
YOUNG, the naked stoker who wentMad with the fires and leapt to the sea,Boyhood still in the voice that sentOne ...
IOne fairest of the ripe unwedded leftHer shadow on the Sage's path; he found,By common signs, that she had done ...
No, no, my friend; there is an agony Not to be exorcised out of the world By any ...
At dusk, when lowlands where dark waters glide Robe in gray mist, and through the greening hills The hoot-owl calls ...
_I have been kissed by the Priestess of the Thin and Deadly Blood-- With the kiss that men ...
Time-morningA half-point Nor'ard from the West,A bluish-tinted spot of light,Now deep below, ...
There is some delight in bombing an EnemyWhom all mankind must hate.There is some foresight in reading the Tarot cardThese ...
Bees build around red liver, Ants build around black bone. It has begun: the tearing, the trampling on silks, It ...
They ordered him to shoot a man.The gun shone with fresh oil.The doomed head shone with drops of sweat.He aimed ...
Now far from my old northern land,I live where gentle winters pass;Where green seas lave a wealthy strand,And unsown is ...
O Life, thou harlot who beguilest all!Beautiful in thy house, the golden world.Abidest thou, where Powers pinion-furledAnd flying Splendors follow ...
Man, the egregious egoist(In mystery the twig is bent)Imagines, by some mental twist,That he alone is sentientOf the intolerable loadThat ...
Our sardine fishermen work at night in the dark of the moon; daylight or moonlight They could not tell where ...
one morning the bone was there set in the centre of waste ground against the early morning sun the frost ...
In the night there are of course the seven wonders of the world and the greatness tragedy and enchantment. Forests ...
When all of a sudden the city air filled with snow, the distinguishable flakes blowing sideways, looked like krill fleeing ...
Better a jungle in the head than rootless concrete. Better to stand bewildered by the fireflies' crooked street; winter lamps ...
Man, the egregious egoist (In mystery the twig is bent) Imagines, by some mental twist, That he alone is sentient ...
I'm waiting for my friend. The gate's unlocked. The banisters are lit so he can walk. I'm waiting for my ...
At dusk, when lowlands where dark waters glide Robe in gray mist, and through the greening hills The hoot-owl calls ...
"Am I, at bottom, that fervent little Spanish Catholic child who chastised herself for loving toys, who forbade herself the ...
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