Wind (Amy Lowell Poem)
He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea, He steals the down from the honeybee, He makes the ...
He shouts in the sails of the ships at sea, He steals the down from the honeybee, He makes the ...
Above the ashes straight and tall, Through ferns with moisture dripping, I climb beneath the sandstone wall, My feet on ...
Across the stony ridges, Across the rolling plain, Young Harry Dale, the drover, Comes riding home again. And well his ...
Melibæus. WElcome fair Nymphs, most welcome to this shade, Distemp'ring Heats do now the Plains invade: But you may sit, ...
Wake: the silver dusk returning Up the beach of darkness brims, And the ship of sunrise burning Strands upon the ...
Like silken cocoons waiting for the metamorphosis the cars under the snow in cocoons of white Wondering what they would ...
I PRELUDE Daughter of Psyche, pledge of that last night When, pierced with pain and bitter-sweet delight, She knew her ...
How in all wonder Columbus got over, That is a marvel to me, I protest, Cabot, and Raleigh too, that ...
Whither, O splendid ship, thy white sails crowding, Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West, That fearest nor sea ...
LOUD blaw the frosty breezes, The snaws the mountains cover; Like winter on me seizes, Since my young Highland rover ...
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind announces autumn, and the equinox rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon. ...
It was while we held our races -- Hurdles, sprints and steplechases -- Up in Dandaloo, That a crowd of ...
Far to the Northward there lies a land, A wonderful land that the winds blow over, And none may fathom ...
The sheep were shorn and the wool went down At the time of our local racing; And I'd earned a ...
it came today to visit and moved into the house it was smaller than an elephant but larger than a ...
Death's the lover that I'd be taking; Wild and fickle and fierce is he. Small's his care if my heart ...
May I join you in the doghouse, Rover? I wish to retire till the party's over. Since three o'clock I've ...
Some people, and it doesn't matter whether they are paupers or millionaires, Think that anything they have is the best ...
When the salt wave laps on the long, dim shore, And frets the reef with its windy sallies, And the ...
Over the fields we go, through the sweets of the purple clover, That letters a message for us as for ...
What the bee is to the floweret, When he looks for honey-dew, Through the leaves that close embower it, That, ...
OH, Prue she has a patient man, And Joan a gentle lover, And Agatha's Arth' is a hug-the-hearth, But my ...
The earth again like a ship steams out of the dark sea over The edge of the blue, and the ...
(Being a Chant of the American Soap-Box and the Russian Revolution.) O market square, O slattern place, Is glory in ...
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