The Quaker Graveyard in Nantucket (Robert Lowell Poem)
(For Warren Winslow, Dead At Sea) Let man have dominion over the fishes of the sea and the fowls of ...
(For Warren Winslow, Dead At Sea) Let man have dominion over the fishes of the sea and the fowls of ...
Wake: the silver dusk returning Up the beach of darkness brims, And the ship of sunrise burning Strands upon the ...
For every bird there is this last migration; Once more the cooling year kindles her heart; With a warm passage ...
I really did feel bad afterward; but at that instant, I was confused sorry, not knowing what to say He ...
TWO lawyers to their cause so well adhered, A country justice quite confused appeared, By them the facts were rendered ...
At the end there were straws in her glove compartment, I'd split them open to taste the familiar bitter residue, ...
On Lolham Brigs in wild and lonely mood I've seen the winter floods their gambols play Through each old arch ...
They say there's a high windless world and strange, Out of the wash of days and temporal tide, Where Faith ...
I. Oh, what a dawn of day! How the March sun feels like May! All is blue again After last ...
death wants more death, and its webs are full: I remember my father's garage, how child-like I would brush the ...
When once the twilight locks no longer Locked in the long worm of my finger Nor damned the sea that ...
If I were tickled by the rub of love, A rooking girl who stole me for her side, Broke through ...
I Half of the fellow father as he doubles His sea-sucked Adam in the hollow hulk, Half of the fellow ...
Consider a girl who keeps slipping off, arms limp as old carrots, into the hypnotist's trance, into a spirit world ...
Blue, but you are Rose, too, and buttermilk, but with blood dots showing through. A little salty your white nape ...
When daisies pied, and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with ...
WHEN daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with ...
Last night my soul cried, "O exalted sphere of Heaven, you hang indeed inverted, with flames in your belly. "Without ...
Shut, shut the door, good John! fatigu'd, I said, Tie up the knocker, say I'm sick, I'm dead. The dog-star ...
As a boy, Theodore, you sat for long hours On the shore of the turbid Spoon With deep-set eye staring ...
How tall among her sisters, and how fair, -- How grave beyond her youth, yet debonair As dawn, 'mid wrinkled ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories