Nuit Blanche (Amy Lowell Poems)
I want no horns to rouse me up to-night, And trumpets make too clamorous a ring To fit my mood, ...
I want no horns to rouse me up to-night, And trumpets make too clamorous a ring To fit my mood, ...
But why did I kill him? Why? Why? In the small, gilded room, near the stair? My ears rack and ...
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
A music-stand of crimson lacquer, long since brought In some fast clipper-ship from China, quaintly wrought With bossed and carven ...
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, ...
A face seen passing in a crowded street, A voice heard singing music, large and free; And from that moment ...
The wind is singing through the trees to-night, A deep-voiced song of rushing cadences And crashing intervals. No summer breeze ...
'T is you that are the music, not your song. The song is but a door which, opening wide, Lets ...
I know a country laced with roads, They join the hills and they span the brooks, They weave like a ...
I do not care to talk to you although Your speech evokes a thousand sympathies, And all my being's silent ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories