Pickthorn Manor (Amy Lowell Poem)
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
I Hoops Blue and pink sashes, Criss-cross shoes, Minna and Stella run out into the garden To play at hoop. ...
Bath The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air. The ...
Happiness, to some, elation; Is, to others, mere stagnation. Days of passive somnolence, At its wildest, indolence. Hours of empty ...
That dog with daisies for eyes who flashes forth flame of his very self at every bark is the Dog ...
Among the blight-killed eucalypts, among trees and bushes rusted by Christmas frosts, the yards and hillsides exhausted by five years ...
BOOK I Deep in the shady sadness of a vale Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn, Far from ...
O Goddess! hear these tuneless numbers, wrung By sweet enforcement and remembrance dear, And pardon that thy secrets should be ...
Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness, Thou foster-child of silence and slow time, Sylvan historian, who canst thus express A ...
I When I considered it too closely, when I wore it like an element and smelt it like water, Life ...
Wise men in their bad hours have envied The little people making merry like grasshoppers In spots of sunlight, hardly ...
All of us the same needing to find time to make God a priority sitting at his feet Needing to ...
In his embrace in the stillness finding time for our Master in the quietness of God Waiting as on the ...
Our comfort, our purpose our calling in this life found in the quietness in the stillness in the presence of ...
Like those in the advent story the angels speaking in a dream while we are asleep God speaks to us ...
In a tough position being a righteous man looking upon his bride already with child Wanting to be righteous to ...
In town to sell his fruit, he saw her- Françoise in her summer slacks- turning to him, coming back to ...
There are songs for the morning and songs for the night, For sunrise and sunset, the stars and the moon; ...
As imperceptibly as Grief The Summer lapsed away -- Too imperceptible at last To seem like Perfidy -- A Quietness ...
A green and silent spot, amid the hills, A small and silent dell ! O'er stiller place No singing sky-lark ...
To him who in the love of nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaks A various language; for ...
Safe in the magic of my woods I lay, and watched the dying light. Faint in the pale high solitudes, ...
Bright-eyed & bushy tailed woke not Henry up. Bright though upon his workshop shone a vise central, moved in while ...
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