Pickthorn Manor (Amy Lowell Poem)
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
I How fresh the Dartle's little waves that day! A steely silver, underlined with blue, And flashing where the round ...
1 A yellow band of light upon the street Pours from an open door, and makes a wide Pathway of ...
Part First Frau Concert-Meister Altgelt shut the door. A storm was rising, heavy gusts of wind Swirled through the trees, ...
The Fool Errant sat by the highway of life And his gaze wandered up and his gaze wandered down, A ...
When you, my Dear, are away, away, How wearily goes the creeping day. A year drags after morning, and night ...
Some men there are who find in nature all Their inspiration, hers the sympathy Which spurs them on to any ...
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