Anthony And Cleopatra (Eugene Emmett Mason Poems)
THE CYNDUS1Beneath th' triumphal blue, th' riotous day, Her silvern galley beats the black flood white, Whilst the long sillage ...
THE CYNDUS1Beneath th' triumphal blue, th' riotous day, Her silvern galley beats the black flood white, Whilst the long sillage ...
To the memory of W. B. YeatsITowards nightfall when the windTries the eaves and casements(A winter wind of the mindLong ...
You are growing convalescent As pain's fingers are withdrawn;And you waken in a strange, white room at last; Yet your ...
This poem is not addressed to you. You may come into it briefly, But no one will find you here, ...
YOU ask me why I love her;Not a charm can you discover!Would you seeThe heart that a shut rose is,And ...
There is a certain Yankee phrase I always have revered,Yet, somehow, in these modern days, It's almost disappeared;It was the ...
Love, maiden Love, cries not within the gates Where sit the watchers, watching hour by hour;Love hideth by the wayside ...
Those wild beesfrom unknown frontiersthat you often see vibrate headlonginto yellow blossoma swarm born outsideevery ordinance and lawlike the stubborn ...
The vine leaves against the brick walls of my house,Are rusty and broken.Dead leaves gather under the pine-trees,The brittle boughs ...
When you wear a cloudy collar and a shirt that isn't white, And you cannot sleep for thinking how you'll ...
During the war, I was in China. Every night we blew the world to hell. The sky was purple and ...
This poem is not addressed to you. You may come into it briefly, But no one will find you here, ...
Reason will not decide at last; the sword will decide. The sword: an obsolete instrument of bronze or steel, formerly ...
KLOPSTOCK would lead us away from Pindus; no longer for laurel May we be eager--the homely acorn alone must content ...
IN Lombardy's fair land, in days of yore, Once dwelt a prince, of youthful charms, a store; Each FAIR, with ...
In pious times, ere priest-craft did begin, Before polygamy was made a sin; When man, on many, multipli'd his kind, ...
I. So far as our story approaches the end, Which do you pity the most of us three?- My friend, ...
I sit on the tracks, a hundred feet from earth, fifty from the water. Gerald is inching toward me as ...
I sit on the tracks, a hundred feet from earth, fifty from the water. Gerald is inching toward me as ...
Isn't one of your prissy richpeoples' swans Wouldn't be at home on some pristine pond Chooses the whole stinking shoreline, ...
What is death, I ask. What is life, you ask. I give them both my buttocks, my two wheels rolling ...
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