Pickthorn Manor (Amy Lowell Poem)
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
With eyes that are narrowed to pierce To the awful horizons of land, Through the blaze of hot days, and ...
Goodbye, lady in Bangor, who sent me snapshots of yourself, after definitely hinting you were beautiful; goodbye, Miami Beach urologist, ...
Now in the suburbs and the falling light I followed him, and now down sandy road Whitter than bone-dust, through ...
O Sovereign power of love! O grief! O balm! All records, saving thine, come cool, and calm, And shadowy, through ...
ENDYMION. A Poetic Romance. "THE STRETCHED METRE OF AN AN ANTIQUE SONG." INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS CHATTERTON. Book ...
Your ears will never hear sounds that to me are ordinary as air. From the hour that you were born ...
Lost aboard the roll of Kodac- olor that was to have super- seded all need to remember Somerset were: a ...
Late, late yestreen I saw the new Moon, With the old Moon in her arms ; And I fear, I ...
Nothin very bad happen to me lately. How you explain that? â?"I explain that, Mr Bones, terms o' your bafflin ...
WHEN biting Boreas, fell and dour, Sharp shivers thro' the leafless bow'r; When Phoebus gies a short-liv'd glow'r, Far south ...
A white well In a black cave; A bright shell In a dark wave. A white rose Black brambles hood; ...
The sun that brief December day Rose cheerless over hills of gray, And, darkly circled, gave at noon A sadder ...
To the Memory of the Household It Describes This Poem is Dedicated by the Author "As the Spirit of Darkness ...
The Bombola faints in the hot Bowral tree, Where fierce Mullengudgery's smothering fires Far from the breezes of Coolgardie Burn ...
Watch out for power, for its avalanche can bury you, snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain. Watch out for hate, ...
Watch out for power, for its avalanche can bury you, snow, snow, snow, smothering your mountain. Watch out for hate, ...
A young man is afraid of his demon and puts his hand over the demon's mouth sometimes...-- D. H. Lawrence ...
We'd gained our first objective hours before While dawn broke like a face with blinking eyes, Pallid, unshaved and thirsty, ...
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares ...
And must the Senator from Illinois Be this squat thing, with blinking, half-closed eyes? This brazen gutter idol, reared to ...
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