Fertility (Edward Rowland Sill Poems)
CLEAR water on smooth rock Could give no foot-hold for a single flower, Or slenderest shaft of grain: The stone ...
CLEAR water on smooth rock Could give no foot-hold for a single flower, Or slenderest shaft of grain: The stone ...
What ! Spring's not born? And twenty sparrows Now are twittering In every bush of thorn? The snowdrop's here - ...
CII love you with each fibre of this frame, Sentient and moral. I have sought that spot Throughout my nature, ...
Because I liked you better Than suits a man to say,It irked you, and I promised To throw the thought ...
Because I liked you better Than suits a man to say, It irked you, and I promised To throw the ...
My black hills have never seen the sun rising, Eternally they look north towards Armagh. Lot's wife would not be ...
Si credere dignum est.--Virgil, Georgics, III, 390 Oh, worthy of belief I hold it was, Virgil, your legend in those ...
I. Moonlight silvers the tops of trees, Moonlight whitens the lilac shadowed wall And through the evening fall, Clearly, as ...
Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round, At Camelot, high above the ...
Dagonet, the fool, whom Gawain in his mood Had made mock-knight of Arthur's Table Round, At Camelot, high above the ...
There is no woman living who draws breath So sad as I, though all things sadden her. There is not ...
IN the cool of the night time The clocks pick off the points And the mainsprings loosen. They will need ...
IN the black pool of the midnight Lu has slung the morning star, And its foam in rippling silver whitens ...
I I dream of journeys repeatedly: Of flying like a bat deep into a narrowing tunnel Of driving alone, without ...
Dew whitens the jade stairs. This late, it soaks her gauze stockings. She lowers her crystal blind to watch the ...
Love set you going like a fat gold watch. The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry Took its ...
I can write the saddest poem of all tonight. Write, for instance: "The night is full of stars, and the ...
Comrades, up! Let us row down stream in this first rare dawnlight, While far in the clear north-west the late ...
Grey drizzling mists the moorlands drape, Rain whitens the dead sea, From headland dim to sullen cape Grey sails creep ...
2 a.m. December, and still no mon rising from the river. My mother home from the beer garden stands before ...
The doctor fingers my bruise. "Magnificent," he says, "black at the edges and purple cored." Seated, he spies for clues, ...
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