The Basket (Amy Lowell Poem)
I The inkstand is full of ink, and the paper lies white and unspotted, in the round of light thrown ...
I The inkstand is full of ink, and the paper lies white and unspotted, in the round of light thrown ...
A Minstrel stands on a marble stair, Blown by the bright wind, debonair; Below lies the sea, a sapphire floor, ...
Goaded and harassed in the factory That tears our life up into bits of days Ticked off upon a clock ...
Side by side, their faces blurred, The earl and countess lie in stone, Their proper habits vaguely shown As jointed ...
There are who lord it o'er their fellow-men With most prevailing tinsel: who unpen Their baaing vanities, to browse away ...
St. Agnes' Eve--Ah, bitter chill it was! The owl, for all his feathers, was a-cold; The hare limp'd trembling through ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
The cruelty of P. L. Brown- (He had ten toes as good as mine) Was known to every one in ...
BY QUEVEDO REDIVIVUS SUGGESTED BY THE COMPOSITION SO ENTITLED BY THE AUTHOR OF 'WAT TYLER' 'A Daniel come to judgment! ...
LARA. CANTO THE FIRST. I. The Serfs are glad through Lara's wide domain, And slavery half forgets her ...
All we were going strong last night this time, the mots were flying & the frozen daiquiris were downing, supine ...
All we were going strong last night this time, the mosts were flying & the frozen daiquiris were downing, supine ...
We mix from many lands, We march for very far; In hearts and lips and hands Our staffs and weapons ...
The Junior God looked from his place In the conning towers of heaven, And he saw the world through the ...
He was an old prospector with a vision bleared and dim. He asked me for a grubstake, and the same ...
AS one who having wandered all night long In a perplexed forest, comes at length In the first hours, about ...
SINCE thou hast given me this good hope, O God, That while my footsteps tread the flowery sod And the ...
Come, bright-eyed maid, Pure offspring of the tranquil mind, Haste, my fev'rish temples bind With olive wreaths of em'rald hue ...
UPON a garden's perfum'd bed With various gaudy colours spread, Beneath the shelter of a ROSE A BUTTERFLY had sought ...
'Twas in the days of front attack; This glorious truth we'd yet to learn it -- That every "front" has ...
[The late Mr. Jonathan Swift Somers, laureate of Spoon River, planned The Spooniad as an epic in twenty-four books, but ...
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