Washing-Day (Anna Laetitia Aikin Barbauld Poems)
——— and their voice, Turning again towards childish treble, pipes And whistles in its sound. ———The Muses are turned gossips; ...
——— and their voice, Turning again towards childish treble, pipes And whistles in its sound. ———The Muses are turned gossips; ...
Name of my heroine, simply "Rose;"Surname, tolerable only in prose;Habitat, Paris,--that is whereShe resided for change of air;Aetat twenty; complexion ...
yes, they begin out in a willow, I think the starch mountains begin out in the willow and keep right ...
ADDRESSED TO MRS. H------Y. IN early youth's unclouded scene,The brilliant morning of eighteen,With health and sprightly joy elateWe gazed on ...
IOur eunuch dreams, all seedless in the light,Of light and love the tempers of the heart,Whack their boys' limbs,And, winding-footed ...
FAREWELL oh mocking Wind! No more I mix Thine airy substance with my world, the Tree: Farewell, oh Carbon, that ...
Where are they all departed, The loved ones of my youth, Those emblems white of purity, Sweet innocence ...
I'm going to gran'ma's for a bitMy mother's got the copper lit;An' piles of clothes are on the floor,An' steam ...
The nursery fire burns brightly, crackling in cheerful little explosions and trails of sparks up the back of the chimney. ...
So I took her to the river believing she was a maiden, but she already had a husband. It was ...
And then we began eating corn starch, chalk chewed wet into sirup. We pilfered Argo boxes stored away to stiffen ...
I now delight In spite Of the might And the right Of classic tradition, In writing And reciting Straight ahead, ...
Someone finding, fragments, words I have written calling them to these snippets of my life from so far away Wondering ...
Last year's maple leaf, or maybe older still no flesh remaining, just the dry bones maybe the veins and arteries, ...
ANOTHER METHOD OF MAKING WALNUT CATSUP And this is a very small cookbook for Trout Fishing in America as if ...
ah, christ, what a CREW: more poetry, always more P O E T R Y . if it doesn't come, ...
I Our eunuch dreams, all seedless in the light, Of light and love the tempers of the heart, Whack their ...
Child, the current of your breath is six days long. You lie, a small knuckle on my white bed; lie, ...
A nothing day full of wild beauty and the timer pings. Roll up the silver off the bay take down ...
After two sittings, now our Lady State To end her picture does the third time wait. But ere thou fall'st ...
ALL day they loitered by the resting ships, Telling their beauties over, taking stock; At night the verdict left my ...
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