Children’s Games (William Carlos Williams Poems)
IThis is a schoolyardcrowdedwith childrenof all ages near a villageon a small streammeandering bywhere some boysare swimmingbare-assor climbing a tree ...
IThis is a schoolyardcrowdedwith childrenof all ages near a villageon a small streammeandering bywhere some boysare swimmingbare-assor climbing a tree ...
Don't tell a camel about need and want.Look at the big lipspursedin perpetual kiss,the dangerous lashesof a born coquette.The camel ...
There are diagrams on stilts all wired togetherOver the hill and the wind and out of sight.There is a scar ...
Upon a gnarly, knotty limbThat fought the current's crest,Where shocks of reeds peeped o'er the brim,Wild wasps had glued their ...
You turn into a plant on the coasts of time.With a chalice of round skyand tunnel for traffic,you are the ...
Lady, lovely lady, Careless and gay!Once when a beggar called She gave her child away.The beggar took the baby, Wrapped it in a ...
There was a young lady of Wilts,Who walked up to Scotland on stilts;When they said it was shockingTo show so ...
ADDRESSED TO THE CRITICAL REVIEWERS. Tristitiam et Metus.--HORACE.Laughs not the heart when giants, big with pride,Assume the pompous port, the ...
The Mighty Mother, and her son who brings The Smithfield muses to the ear of kings, I sing. Say you, ...
To town one day rode Solon Stiles,O'er weary roads and rocky miles,And thro' long lanes, whose dusty breath,Did nearly smother ...
MY canty, witty, rhyming plughman,I haftin's dout, it is na' true, man,That ye between the stilts was bred,Wi' plughman school'd ...
Let us not talk philosophy, drop it, Jeanne. So many words, so much paper, who can stand it. I told ...
THE Room is getting cold, one gas-light burns And the fire is now a monotonous red glow ; The old ...
While my hair was still cut straight across my foreheadI played about the front gate, pulling flowers.You came by on ...
Friend by enemy I call you out.You with a bad coin in your socket,You my friend there with a winning ...
Our Father who art in heaven, I am drunk. Again. Red wine. For which I offer thanks. I ought to ...
Processions that lack high stilts have nothing that catches the eye. What if my great-granddad had a pair that were ...
THE LANDS OF MY CHILDHOOD 1 I am leaving the holy city of Leeds For the last time for the ...
In the mustardseed sun, By full tilt river and switchback sea Where the cormorants scud, In his house on stilts ...
After Li Po While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead I played at the front gate, pulling ...
Let us not talk philosophy, drop it, Jeanne. So many words, so much paper, who can stand it. I told ...
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