Clear, with Light, Variable Winds (Amy Lowell Poem)
The fountain bent and straightened itself In the night wind, Blowing like a flower. It gleamed and glittered, A tall ...
The fountain bent and straightened itself In the night wind, Blowing like a flower. It gleamed and glittered, A tall ...
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
Higher than the handsomest hotel The lucent comb shows up for miles, but see, All round it close-ribbed streets rise ...
To Ernest Brace "And when the seven thunders had uttered their voices, I was about to write: and I heard ...
A serious moment for the water is when it boils And though one usually regards it merely as a convenience ...
"BRING me my broken harp," he said; "We both are wrecks,-- but as ye will,-- Though all its ringing tones ...
there are eyes that refuse to exist in the fresh air - they are invented by the lies of paint ...
in my reading of the moment i have learned the figure next to christ in da vinci's last supper (a ...
our differences, so minor, like illusionary walls, stage effects merely, unreal, phantoms, keeping us apart nothing of God in these ...
The Waste Land by T. S. Eliot "Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et ...
Long long ago I went through the castle of leaves Yellowing slowly in the moss And far away barnacles clung ...
How beautiful the earth is still, To thee - how full of happiness! How little fraught with real ill, Or ...
Often rebuked, yet always back returning To those first feelings that were born with me, And leaving busy chase of ...
On a sunny brae, alone I lay One summer afternoon; It was the marriage-time of May With her young lover, ...
A spot of poontang on a five-foot piece, Diminutive, but room enough . . like clay To finger eager on ...
O trees of life, oh, what when winter comes? We are not of one mind. Are not like birds in ...
So it is the duty of the artist to discourage all traces of shame To extend all boundaries To fog ...
They are always with us, the thin people Meager of dimension as the gray people On a movie-screen. They Are ...
Across the millstream below the bridge Seven blue swallows divide the air In shapes invisible and evanescent, Kaleidoscopic beyond the ...
Grey drizzling mists the moorlands drape, Rain whitens the dead sea, From headland dim to sullen cape Grey sails creep ...
Mean while the heinous and despiteful act Of Satan, done in Paradise; and how He, in the serpent, had perverted ...
As Ann came in one summer's day, She felt that she must creep, So silent was the clear cool house, ...
The earth again like a ship steams out of the dark sea over The edge of the blue, and the ...
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