In the Lee (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Around town, as the snow melted in the yards, by the streets, browning white Pristine white remained cloistered, away from ...
Around town, as the snow melted in the yards, by the streets, browning white Pristine white remained cloistered, away from ...
POOR River, now thou'rt almost dry, What Nymph, or Swain, will near thee lie? Since brought, alas! to sad Decay, ...
Daphne's Answer to Sylvia, declaring she should esteem all as Enemies, who should talk to her of LOVE. THEN, to ...
There were only a few of them In all the earth Each one thought he was alone They sang, they ...
THEY are rattling breakfast plates in basement kitchens, And along the trampled edges of the street I am aware of ...
New York: You take a train that rips through versts. It feels as if the trains were running over your ...
'Twas at the royal feast for Persia won By Philip's warlike son- Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate ...
Dear to my heart are the ancestral dwellings of America, Dearer than if they were haunted by ghosts of royal ...
AUGUST 17, 1914 The gabled roofs of old Malines Are russet red and gray and green, And o'er them in ...
Doors were left open in heaven again: drafts wheeze, clouds wrap their ripped pages around roofs and trees. Like wet ...
I have braved, for want of wild beasts, steel cages, carved my term and nickname on bunks and rafters, lived ...
The country ever has a lagging Spring, Waiting for May to call its violets forth, And June its roses--showers and ...
Oh! could I hope the wise and pure in heart Might hear my song without a frown, nor deem My ...
The groves were God's first temples. Ere man learned To hew the shaft, and lay the architrave, And spread the ...
I have been so great a lover: filled my days So proudly with the splendour of Love's praise, The pain, ...
I was born in a drouth year. That summer my mother waited in the house, enclosed in the sun and ...
The last pose flickered, failed. The screen's dead white Glared in a sudden flooding of harsh light Stabbing the eyes; ...
I Our life is twofold; Sleep hath its own world, A boundary between the things misnamed Death and existence: Sleep ...
If we sang in the wood (and Death is a German expert) while snows flies, chill, after so frequent knew ...
Although it is a cold evening, down by one of the fishhouses an old man sits netting, his net, in ...
Now, when the moon slid under the cloud And the cold clear dark of starlight fell, He heard in his ...
'This envelope you say has something in it Which once belonged to your dead son-or something He knew, was fond ...
The warm sun dreams in the dust, the warm sun falls On bright red roofs and walls; The trees in ...
Round white clouds roll slowly above the housetops, Over the clear red roofs they flow and pass. A flock of ...
More towers must yet be built-more towers destroyed- Great rocks hoisted in air; And he must seek his bread in ...
Over the darkened city, the city of towers, The city of a thousand gates, Over the gleaming terraced roofs, the ...
The white fog creeps from the cold sea over the city, Over the pale grey tumbled towers,- And settles among ...
One, from his high bright window in a tower, Leans out, as evening falls, And sees the advancing curtain of ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
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