Lines Written In The Fannie Farmer Cookbook (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
You won't become a gourmet* cook By studying our Fannie's book-- Her thoughts on Food & Keeping House Are scarcely ...
You won't become a gourmet* cook By studying our Fannie's book-- Her thoughts on Food & Keeping House Are scarcely ...
For John Malcolm Brinnin and Bill Read: Duxbury It was cold and windy, scarcely the day to take a walk ...
In Worcester, Massachusetts, I went with Aunt Consuelo to keep her dentist's appointment and sat and waited for her in ...
Of what she said to me that night-no matter. The strange thing came next day. My brain was full of ...
Up high black walls, up sombre terraces, Clinging like luminous birds to the sides of cliffs, The yellow lights went ...
I'm glad I am alive, to see and feel The full deliciousness of this bright day, That's like a heart ...
A sunset's mounded cloud; A diamond evening-star; Sad blue hills afar; Love in his shroud. Scarcely a tear to shed; ...
Oh! Mr. Best, you're very bad And all the world shall know it; Your base behaviour shall be sung By ...
Kind of empty in the way it sees everything, the earth gets to its feet andsalutes the sky. More of ...
THE KING'S most humble servant, I Can scarcely spare a minute; But I'll be wi' you by an' by; Or ...
O ROUGH, rude, ready-witted Rankine, The wale o' cocks for fun an' drinkin! There's mony godly folks are thinkin, Your ...
May-, 1786.I LANG hae thought, my youthfu' friend, A something to have sent you, Tho' it should serve nae ither ...
WHEN chapman billies leave the street, And drouthy neibors, neibors, meet; As market days are wearing late, And folk begin ...
'TWAS 1 in that place o' Scotland's isle, That bears the name o' auld King Coil, Upon a bonie day ...
RecitativoWHEN lyart leaves bestrow the yird, Or wavering like the bauckie-bird, Bedim cauld Boreas' blast; When hailstanes drive wi' bitter ...
A Tale "Of Brownyis and of Bogilis full is this Buke." -Gawin Douglas. When chapman billies leave the street, And ...
I am like, They tell me, my dear father. Broader brows Howbeit, upon a slenderer undergrowth Of delicate ...
A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne From year to year until I saw thy face, And sorrow after sorrow ...
I. ENOUGH ! we're tired, my heart and I. We sit beside the headstone thus, And wish that name were ...
Whether on Ida's shady brow, Or in the chambers of the East, The chambers of the sun, that now From ...
When my mother died I was very young, And my father sold me while yet my tongue, Could scarcely cry ...
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