The Bombardment (Amy Lowell Poem)
Slowly, without force, the rain drops into the city. It stops a moment on the carved head of Saint John, ...
Slowly, without force, the rain drops into the city. It stops a moment on the carved head of Saint John, ...
A drifting, April, twilight sky, A wind which blew the puddles dry, And slapped the river into waves That ran ...
Wallowing in this bloody sty, I cast for fish that pleased my eye (Truly Jehovah's bow suspends No pots of ...
How beautiful is the rain! After the dust and heat, In the broad and fiery street, In the narrow lane, ...
O Sovereign power of love! O grief! O balm! All records, saving thine, come cool, and calm, And shadowy, through ...
It is the boy in me who's looking out the window, while someone across the street mends a pillowcase, clouds ...
"Tout aux tavernes et aux filles." Suppose you screeve? or go cheap-jack? Or fake the broads? or fig a nag? ...
Breathe not, hid Heart: cease silently, And though thy birth-hour beckons thee, Sleep the long sleep: The Doomsters heap Travails ...
I'll tell you the story of Jonah, A really remarkable tale; A peaceful and humdrum existence he had Until one ...
The Rum Tum Tugger is a Curious Cat: If you offer him pheasant he would rather have grouse. If you ...
I suppose you could call me heartless as a dull anvil clanking in a sodden barn, the damp wood too ...
(with apologies to Frederic Taber Cooper) I well recall (and who does not) The circus bill-board hippopotamus, whose wide distended ...
In a motion of night they massed nearer my post. I hummed a short blues. When the stars went out ...
"As certain also of your own poets have said"-- (Acts 17.28) Cleon the poet (from the sprinkled isles, Lily on ...
(As Distinguished by an Italian Person of Quality) I Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare, ...
Careful Observers may fortel the Hour (By sure Prognosticks) when to dread a Show'r: While Rain depends, the pensive Cat ...
Part 1 WHAT dire Offence from am'rous Causes springs, What mighty Contests rise from trivial Things, I sing -- This ...
But anxious cares the pensive nymph oppress'd, And secret passions labour'd in her breast. Not youthful kings in battle seiz'd ...
But, learning now that they would have her speak, She threw her wet hair backward from her brow, Her hand ...
High on a throne of royal state, which far Outshone the wealth or Ormus and of Ind, Or where the ...
It's little I care what path I take, And where it leads it's little I care; But out of this ...
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