Storm-Ebb (Cale Young Rice Poems)
Dusking amber dimly creeps Over the vale, Lit by the kildee's silver sweeps, Sad with ...
Dusking amber dimly creeps Over the vale, Lit by the kildee's silver sweeps, Sad with ...
These things were yours, these little simple things; You touched them, used them one time, loved them well.Now you ...
and what were roses. Perfume? for i doforget. or mere Music mounting unsurelytwilightbut here were something more maturelychildish, more beautiful ...
Let the world's sharpness like a clasping knifeShut in upon itself and do no harmIn this close hand of Love, ...
The edge of the green wave whitely doth hissUpon the wetted sand. I look, yet dream.Surely reality cannot be this!Somehow, ...
Why is that wanton gossip Fame So dumb about this man's affairs? Why do we titter at his name Who ...
ENDYMION. A Poetic Romance. "THE STRETCHED METRE OF AN AN ANTIQUE SONG." INSCRIBED TO THE MEMORY OF THOMAS CHATTERTON. Book ...
A dream of mine flew over the mead To the halls where my old Love reigns; And it drew me ...
When Crow was white he decided the sun was too white. He decided it glared much too whitely. He decided ...
My friend went to the piano; spun the stool A little higher; left his pipe to cool; Picked up a ...
ANCIEN REGIME I Now that I, tying thy glass mask tightly, May gaze through these faint smokes curling whitely, As ...
Let the world's sharpness, like a clasping knife, Shut in upon itself and do no harm In this close hand ...
What are you doing here, Tom Thorne, on the white top-knot o' the world, Where the wind has the cut ...
O HOLY SPIRIT of the Hazel, hearken now: Though shining suns and silver moons burn on the bough, And though ...
The friar had said his paternosters duly And scourged his limbs, and afterwards would have slept; But with much riddling ...
He felt the entrance's green darkness wrapped cooly round him like a silken cloak that he was still accepting and ...
Overnight, very Whitely, discreetly, Very quietly Our toes, our noses Take hold on the loam, Acquire the air. Nobody sees ...
Spry, wry, and gray as these March sticks, Percy bows, in his blue peajacket, among the narcissi. He is recuperating ...
(1) This is the sea, then, this great abeyance. How the sun's poultice draws on my inflammation. Electrifyingly-colored sherbets, scooped ...
If I were mild, and I were sweet, And laid my heart before your feet, And took my dearest thoughts ...
The little pansies by the road have turned Away their purple faces and their gold, And evening has taken all ...
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