The Great Adventure of Max Breuck (Amy Lowell Poem)
1 A yellow band of light upon the street Pours from an open door, and makes a wide Pathway of ...
1 A yellow band of light upon the street Pours from an open door, and makes a wide Pathway of ...
A Minstrel stands on a marble stair, Blown by the bright wind, debonair; Below lies the sea, a sapphire floor, ...
Playing her parchment moon Precosia comes along a watery path of laurels and crystal lights. The starless silence, fleeing from ...
Dear child! how radiant on thy mother's knee, With merry-making eyes and jocund smiles, Thou gazest at the painted tiles, ...
If you've ever stole a pheasant-egg be'ind the keeper's back, If you've ever snigged the washin' from the line, If ...
the day was as grey as the abbey the light that filtered through the glass had no disturbing shine about ...
Acting immediately without a permit no engineering study just getting it done Cutting a hole lifting the tiles carrying the ...
I remember well making that old little trivet popsicle sticks, real ones not craft sticks made for that purpose these ...
I like a church, I like a cowl, I love a prophet of the soul, And on my heart monastic ...
The priest never used blueprints, but worked all the many designs out of his head. Father Wilerus, transplanted Alsatian, built ...
Although it is night, I sit in the bathroom, waiting. Sweat prickles behind my knees, the baby-breasts are alert. Venetian ...
There were long hyphens in our day- When no one spoke; no one exhaled As we contemplated the broken puzzles- ...
The manic fires flared again today, very much the same irrational urges blazing from the open grate, urgent fervours that ...
To say we've done it all before is not to bend the truth and though we've lost our youth the ...
And then life; and once again A house where I was born. Around us The granary above what once had ...
The stone-built villages of England. A cathedral bottled in a pub window. Cows dispersed across fields. Monuments to kings. A ...
ANDROMACHE, I think of you! The stream, The poor, sad mirror where in bygone days Shone all the majesty of ...
1 It once might have been, once only: 2 We lodged in a street together, 3 You, a sparrow on ...
From the metal poppy this good blast of trance arriving as shock, private cloudburst blazing down, worst in a boarding-house ...
Once played to attentive faces music has broken its frame its bodice of always-weak laces the entirely promiscuous art pours ...
It is the longest night in all the year, Near on the day when the Lord Christ was born; Six ...
O, for that warning voice, which he, who saw The Apocalypse, heard cry in Heaven aloud, Then when the Dragon, ...
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