The Conversazzhony (Eugene Field Poem)
What conversazzhyonies wuz I really did not know, For that, you must remember, wuz a powerful spell ago; The camp ...
What conversazzhyonies wuz I really did not know, For that, you must remember, wuz a powerful spell ago; The camp ...
Nil mortalibus ardui est Caelum ipsum petimus stultitia Horace FROM Persian looms the silk he wove No Weaver meant should ...
Weary, at last, of the Pindarick way, Thro' which advent'rously the Muse wou'd stray; To Fable I descend with soft ...
Farewell, lov'd Youth! since 'twas the Will of Heaven So soon to take, what had so late been giv'n; And ...
A WIT, transported with Inditing, Unpay'd, unprais'd, yet ever Writing; Who, for all Fights and Fav'rite Friends, Had Poems at ...
I met a lady from the South who said (You won't believe she said it, but she said it): "None ...
Thousand minstrels woke within me, "Our music's in the hills; "- Gayest pictures rose to win me, Leopard-colored rills. Up!-If ...
I had sex with a famous poet last night and when I rolled over and found myself beside him I ...
Some men there be which like my method well And much commend the strangeness of my vein; Some say I ...
In Ionia whence sprang old poets' fame, From whom that sea did first derive her name, The blessed bed whereon ...
Thou youngest virgin-daughter of the skies, Made in the last promotion of the Blest; Whose palms, new pluck'd from Paradise, ...
To the Pious Memory of the Accomplished Young Lady, Mrs Anne Killigrew, Excellent in the Two Sister-arts of Poesy and ...
All human things are subject to decay, And, when Fate summons, monarchs must obey: This Flecknoe found, who, like Augustus, ...
Mother of all the high-strung poets and singers departed, Mother of all the grass that weaves over their graves the ...
The Poets light but Lamps -- Themselves -- go out -- The Wicks they stimulate -- If vital Light Inhere ...
The Martyr Poets -- did not tell -- But wrought their Pang in syllable -- That when their mortal name ...
I reckon -- when I count it all -- First -- Poets -- Then the Sun -- Then Summer -- ...
Besides the Autumn poets sing A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of ...
Her -- "last Poems" -- Poets -- ended -- Silver -- perished -- with her Tongue -- Not on Record ...
I'm reading fellow poets' blogs today, a sustaining source of entertainment; I admire their style without exciting comment or resorting ...
A few kind words, what can be bought with that? In essence just a clique of tidy prose, a verb, ...
Know Celia, since thou art so proud, 'Twas I that gave thee thy renown; Thou hadst, in the forgotten crowd ...
England, with all thy faults, I love thee still-- My country! and, while yet a nook is left Where English ...
Nor thou, Habib, nor I are glad, when rosy limbs and sweat entwine; But rapture drowns the sense and self, ...
Nor thou, Habib, nor I are glad, when rosy limbs and sweat entwine; But rapture drowns the sense and self, ...
THE PROLOGUE. This worthy limitour, this noble Frere, He made always a manner louring cheer* *countenance Upon the Sompnour; but ...
Give me back my broken night my mirrored room, my secret life it's lonely here, there's no one left to ...
Now as Heaven is my Lot, they're the Pests of the Nation! Wherever they can come With clankum and blankum ...
Come queen of months in company Wi all thy merry minstrelsy The restless cuckoo absent long And twittering swallows chimney ...
The earth is full of rhythms so precise the octave of the crystal can produce a trillion oscillations, yet not ...
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