Malmaison (Amy Lowell Poem)
I How the slates of the roof sparkle in the sun, over there, over there, beyond the high wall! How ...
I How the slates of the roof sparkle in the sun, over there, over there, beyond the high wall! How ...
I Frindsbury, Kent, 1786 Bang! Bang! Tap! Tap-a-tap! Rap! All through the lead and silver Winter days, All through the ...
I The Trumpet-Vine Arbour The throats of the little red trumpet-flowers are wide open, And the clangour of brass beats ...
In tight pants, tight skirts, Stretched or squeezed, Youth hurts, Crammed in, bursting out, Flesh will sing And hide its ...
It can't be "Summer"! That -- got through! It's early -- yet -- for "Spring"! There's that long town of ...
Warm rain and soft breeze by turns Have just broken And driven away the chill. Moist as the pussy willows, ...
1. Dear relatives and friends, when my last breath Grows large and free in air, don't call it death -- ...
HOW cold is that bosom which folly once fired, How pale is that cheek where the rouge lately glisten'd; How ...
Du rouge au vert tout le jaune se meurt Quand chantent les aras dans les forêts natales Abatis de pihis ...
FROM those drear solitudes and frowsy cells, Where Infamy with sad Repentance dwells; Where turnkeys make the jealous portal fast, ...
(Goya, an old man in exile, looks at his self-portrait) A bull's neck, still much needed, Deserving exile or the ...
Poem by Anne-Marie Derése Je ne sais qui tu caches sous ton visage inventè, ton visage volè l'oiseau, emprisonnè de ...
Poem by Anne-Marie Derése Je suis le fer rouge sur l'èpaule du condamnè, le gibet et la corde, la hache ...
Till midnight her needle she plied To finish her pretty pink dress; "Oh, bless you, my darling," she sighed; "I ...
A bunch of the boys were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon; The kid that handles the music-box was ...
Could he have made Priscilla share The paradise that he had planned, Llewellyn would have loved his wife As well ...
A form, as any taper, fine ; A head like half-pint bason ; Where golden cords, and bands entwine, As ...
I do not want a plain box, I want a sarcophagus With tigery stripes, and a face on it Round ...
So let me have the rouge again, And comb my hair the curly way. The poor young men, the dear ...
A guardian of long-distance conduits in the desert? A one-man crew of a fortress in the sand? Whoever he was. ...
Filaments of light slant like windswept rain. The orange seller hawks into the sky, a man with a hat stops ...
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