The Weed (Elizabeth Bishop Poem)
I dreamed that dead, and meditating, I lay upon a grave, or bed, (at least, some cold and close-built bower). ...
I dreamed that dead, and meditating, I lay upon a grave, or bed, (at least, some cold and close-built bower). ...
No, I shall not say why it is that I love you- Why do you ask me, save for vanity? ...
As evening falls, The walls grow luminous and warm, the walls Tremble and glow with the lives within them moving, ...
Now, when the moon slid under the cloud And the cold clear dark of starlight fell, He heard in his ...
Wind blows. Snow falls. The great clock in its tower Ticks with reverberant coil and tolls the hour: At the ...
Snow falls. The sky is grey, and sullenly glares With purple lights in the canyoned street. The fiery sign on ...
Midnight; bells toll, and along the cloud-high towers The golden lights go out . . . The yellow windows darken, ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
I. Moonlight silvers the tops of trees, Moonlight whitens the lilac shadowed wall And through the evening fall, Clearly, as ...
Fanfare of northwest wind, a bluejay wind announces autumn, and the equinox rolls back blue bays to a far afternoon. ...
He Fill your bowl with roses: the bowl, too, have of crystal. Sit at the western window. Take the sun ...
Doleful was the land, Dull on, every side, Neither soft n'or grand, Barren, bleak, and wide; Nothing look'd with love; ...
Through grass, through amber'd cornfields, our slow Stream-- Fringed with its flags and reeds and rushes tall, And Meadowsweet, the ...
Chequer'd with woven shadows as I lay Among the grass, blinking the watery gleam, I saw an Echo-Spirit in his ...
A quay with vessels moored Thomas To India! Yea, here I may take ship; From here the courses go over ...
She ONLY to be twin elements of joy In this extravagance of Being, Love, Were our divided natures shaped in ...
Zeus, Brazen-thunder-hurler, Cloud-whirler, son-of-Kronos, Send vengeance on these Oreads Who strew White frozen flecks of mist and cloud Over the ...
Why do you always stand there shivering Between the white stream and the road? The people pass through the dust ...
We sighing said, "Our Pan is dead; His pipe hangs mute beside the river Around it wistful sunbeams quiver, But ...
Long ago in a poultry yard One dull November morn, Beneath a motherly soft wing A little goose was born. ...
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi ritrovai per una selva oscura ch? la diritta via era smarrita . ...
1 Ever musing I delight to tread The Paths of honour and the Myrtle Grove Whilst the pale Moon her ...
Orpheus liked the glad personal quality Of the things beneath the sky. Of course, Eurydice was a part Of this. ...
THROUGH the black, rushing smoke-bursts, Thick breaks the red flame. All Etna heaves fiercely Her forest-clothed frame. Not here, O ...
Through the black, rushing smoke-bursts, Thick breaks the red flame. All Etna heaves fiercely Her forest-clothed frame. Not here, O ...
The Master stood upon the mount, and taught. He saw a fire in his disciples' eyes; 'The old law', they ...
1 Faster, faster, 2 O Circe, Goddess, 3 Let the wild, thronging train 4 The bright procession 5 Of eddying ...
Through the black, rushing smoke-bursts, Thick breaks the red flame; All Etna heaves fiercely Her forest-clothed frame. Not here, O ...
The Youth Faster, faster, O Circe, Goddess, Let the wild, thronging train The bright procession Of eddying forms, Sweep through ...
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