Miscast I (Amy Lowell Poem)
I have whetted my brain until it is like a Damascus blade, So keen that it nicks off the floating ...
I have whetted my brain until it is like a Damascus blade, So keen that it nicks off the floating ...
I How the slates of the roof sparkle in the sun, over there, over there, beyond the high wall! How ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
I know a country laced with roads, They join the hills and they span the brooks, They weave like a ...
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