The School-Boy (Oliver Wendell Holmes Poems)
THESE hallowed precincts, long to memory dear,Smile with fresh welcome as our feet draw near;With softer gales the opening leaves ...
THESE hallowed precincts, long to memory dear,Smile with fresh welcome as our feet draw near;With softer gales the opening leaves ...
In the background, a few shacks & overturned cartsAnd a gray sky holding the singular pallor of Lent.And here the ...
There in the bracken was the ominous spoor mark,Huge, splayed, deadly, and quiet as breath,And all around lay bloodied and ...
Inhaling the chilly mist of the distant dusk,along the silent stretching mountain slope,the train comes crawling.Rumbling, rumbling,today again the bridge ...
Red-faced as old carousal, and with eyes A hard, hot blue; her hair a frowsy flame, Bold, dowdy-bosomed, from her widow-frame She leans, ...
When first I saw you in the curious streetLike some platoon of soldier ghosts in grey,My mad impulse was all ...
"Now, scarce three paces measured from the mound,We stumbled on a stationary voice,And 'Stand, who goes?' 'Two from the palace' ...
To Andrew LytleParis, November 1929Their faces are bony and sharp but very red, althoughtheir ancestors nearly two hundred years have ...
I, born in WeimarOf a mother who was FrenchAnd German father, a most learned professor,Orphaned at fourteen years,Became a dancer, ...
So here's your Empire. No more wine, then? Good. We'll clear the Aides and khitmatgars away. (You'll know that fat ...
After Joseph Roth Parce que c'était lui; parce que c'était moi. Montaigne, De L'amitië The dream's forfeit was a night ...
"Is that the Three-and-Twentieth, Strabo mine, Marching below, and we still gulping wine?" From the sad magic of his fragrant ...
Ophelia puked hourly dawn till dusk, retching mucous slobber, then spewing air. Scum that I am, I never stopped thinking ...
Everyone who made love the night before was walking around with flashing red lights on top of their heads-a white-haired ...
Now, scarce three paces measured from the mound, We stumbled on a stationary voice, And 'Stand, who goes?' 'Two from ...
The bar he went inside was not A place he often visited; He welcomed anonymity; No one to switch inquisitive ...
Zut! it's two o'clock. See! the lights are jumping. Finish up your bock, Time we all were humping. Waiters stack ...
When roaring gloom surged inward and you cried, Groping for friendly hands, and clutched, and died, Like racing smoke, swift ...
I, born in Weimar Of a mother who was French And German father, a most learned professor, Orphaned at fourteen ...
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