Shakespeare (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow Poem)
A vision as of crowded city streets, With human life in endless overflow; Thunder of thoroughfares; trumpets that blow To ...
A vision as of crowded city streets, With human life in endless overflow; Thunder of thoroughfares; trumpets that blow To ...
The day is ending, The night is descending; The marsh is frozen, The river dead. Through clouds like ashes The ...
Between two nights the brief day. The farm is there. And in the thicket, a snare the hunter set for ...
Little thinks, in the field, yon red-cloaked clown, Of thee, from the hill-top looking down; And the heifer, that lows ...
(The Dry Salvages-presumably les trois sauvages-is a small group of rocks, with a beacon, off the N.E. coast of Cape ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
Of Tolling Bell I ask the cause? "A Soul has gone to Heaven" I'm answered in a lonesome tone -- ...
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church -- I keep it, staying at Home -- With a Bobolink for a ...
Absorbed in familiar rhythms, carillon of senses steeped in good vibrations, surrounded by musical beat pulsing potently in avidly articulated ...
When sorrow lays us low for a second we are saved by humble windfalls of the mindfulness or memory: the ...
Now, when the moon slid under the cloud And the cold clear dark of starlight fell, He heard in his ...
AGAINST THE GRAIN "Oxford be silent, I this truth must write Leeds hath for rarities undone thee quite." - William ...
1 WHEN lilacs last in the door-yard bloom'd, And the great star early droop'd in the western sky in the ...
So it has come to this insomnia at 3:15 A.M., the clock tolling its engine like a frog following a ...
This present tragedy will eventually turn into myth, and in the mist of that later telling the bell tolling now ...
Sleepless I listen to the surge and drone And drifting roar of the town's undertone; Till through quiet falling rain ...
When I am safely laid away, Out of work and out of play, Sheltered by the kindly ground From the ...
I. Where freezing wastes of dazzl'ing Snow O'er LEMAN'S Lake rose, tow'ring; The BARON GOLFRE'S Castle strong Was seen, the ...
I Hear the sledges with the bells- Silver bells! What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle, ...
Alas! Prince Henry of Battenberg is dead! And, I hope, has gone to heaven, its streets to tread, And to ...
[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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