Blind (James Whitcomb Riley Poems)
You think it is a sorry thing That I am blind. Your pitying Is welcome to me; yet indeed, I think I have but ...
You think it is a sorry thing That I am blind. Your pitying Is welcome to me; yet indeed, I think I have but ...
Stay, ship from Thames with fettered sailsin Sydney Cove, this ebb of tide;your gear untangled from the gales,imprisoned at your ...
ORIGIN OF THE SERPENT.Ahti, living on the island,Near the Kauko-point and harbor,Plowed his fields for rye and barley,Furrowed his extensive ...
An old western town lay asleep in the sunOf a long summer day that was then almost done.The shadows were ...
Now I am slow and placid, fond of sun,Like a sleek beast, or a worn one,No slim and languid girl ...
All right. Try this, Then. Every body I know and care for, And every body Else is going To die ...
Still sober, César Vallejo comes home and finds a black ribbon around the apartment building covering the front door. He ...
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