God’s Acre (Conrad Potter Aiken Poems)
In Memory Of. In Fondest Recollection Of. In Loving Memory Of. In Fond Remembrance. Died in October. Died at Sea. ...
In Memory Of. In Fondest Recollection Of. In Loving Memory Of. In Fond Remembrance. Died in October. Died at Sea. ...
1 Thy mellow passioning amid the leaves, That tremble dimly in the summer dusk, Falls sad along ...
God has been good to men. He gaveHis Only Son their souls to save,And then he made a second gift,Which ...
In Spasskoe, unforgettable September sheds its leaves.Isn't it time to close up the summer-house?Echo traps the thudding of axe-blows in ...
This love, that dares not warm before its flameOur yearning hands, or from its tempting treeYield fruit we may consume, ...
This fellow calls me sordid, that one poor-- Poorer in spirit than in purse, perchance; Another's humid eyeballs shine and ...
Why should I let the toad work Squat on my life? Can't I use my wit as a pitchfork And ...
Lord, Thou hast given me a cell Wherein to dwell; An little house, whose humble roof Is weather-proof; Under the ...
Witness to his sacrifice proclaiming him to the nations the good news of his coming and his rising in victory ...
Speaking as he did, Christ spoke in the language in words that the poor, the simple, everyday people in words ...
A mat of green, burgundy, and brown Covered the skin of the once open water Of the marsh, cut off ...
Of all our antic sights and pageantry Which English idiots run in crowds to see, The Polish Medal bears the ...
Fame, wisdom, love, and power were mine, And health and youth possessed me; My goblets blushed from every vine, And ...
1 O TAKE my hand, Walt Whitman! Such gliding wonders! such sights and sounds! Such join'd unended links, each hook'd ...
I MET a Seer, Passing the hues and objects of the world, The fields of art and learning, pleasure, sense, ...
You know there is not much that I desire, a few chrysanthemums half lying on the grass, yellow and brown ...
When the gong sounds ten in the morning and I walk to school by our lane. Every day I meet ...
Frau Doktor, Mama Brundig, take out your contacts, remove your wig. I write for you. I entertain. But frogs come ...
I I see the boys of summer in their ruin Lay the gold tithings barren, Setting no store by harvest, ...
I Beyond the hollow sunset, ere a star Take heart in heaven from eastward, while the west, Fulfilled of watery ...
On silver sand where ripples curled I counted sea-gulls seven; Shy, secret screened from all the world, And innocent as ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories