Fit The First: The Landing (Lewis Carroll Poems)
The Landing"Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,As he landed his crew with care;Supporting each man on the ...
The Landing"Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried,As he landed his crew with care;Supporting each man on the ...
Wait a little: do _we_ not wait?Louis Napoleon is not Fate,Francis Joseph is not Time;There's One hath swifter feet than ...
Radiant notes piercing my narrow-chested room, beating down through my ceiling- smeared with unshapen belly-prints of dreams drifted out of ...
February on the narrow beach, 3oA.M. I set out south. Cape Cod Lighton its crumbling cliff above me turnsits wand ...
The enchanted island rose before me, drawnMore beautiful than words of mine may reach;It lay magnificent in a magic dawn,And ...
You come along. . . tearing your shirt. . . yelling about Jesus. Where do you ...
The Glugs abide in a far, far landThat is partly pebbles and stones and sand, But mainly earth of a ...
Follow the river and cross the ford, Follow again to the wobbly bridge,Turn to the left at the notice board, ...
They climbed the trees . . . As was told before,The Glugs climbed trees in the days of yore, When ...
The swallows are back, and I'm tuning my lyre, For today 'tis my duty to singA melodious lay that is ...
Sitting on the top of the 'bus, I bite my pipe and look at the sky. Over my ...
Wait, for now. Distrust everything, if you have to. But trust the hours. Haven't they carried you everywhere, up to ...
I've a head like a concertina: I've a tongue like a button-stick: I've a mouth like an old potato, and ...
Three together, down the road a sprint to a court date, saving at the end, of the journey second-hand smoke, ...
Marking time in pencil strokes across a virgin page and waiting for coincidence of heart-beat and second-hand, keying to the ...
The Landing "Just the place for a Snark!" the Bellman cried, As he landed his crew with care; Supporting each ...
Dedication Inscribed to a dear Child: in memory of golden summer hours and whispers of a summer sea. Girt with ...
As Parmigianino did it, the right hand Bigger than the head, thrust at the viewer And swerving easily away, as ...
Eamer o' Keefe with your tinge of brogue And Irish warmth, Daisy and Debjani With your karma and cool verse, ...
YOU come along. . . tearing your shirt. . . yelling about Jesus. Where do you get that stuff? What ...
IN Abraham Lincoln's city, Where they remember his lawyer's shingle, The place where they brought him Wrapped in battle flags, ...
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