To The Proof Room (Bert Leston Taylor Poems)
"O MEN of dark and dismal fate," A prey to typographic terrors,O you who labor long and late, ...
"O MEN of dark and dismal fate," A prey to typographic terrors,O you who labor long and late, ...
To charitable deeds I'm not addicted, For sentiment I do not care a prune,And yet I weep at poverty ...
It was a gentle sawbones and his name was Doctor Brown.His auto was the terror of a small suburban town.His ...
(Lines written after viewing Mr Arthur Dove'sexposition of the "Simultaneousness of the Ambient")I cannot tell you how I love ...
OH light as the foam on the Plover, That mottles that magical stream;Oh light as the vows of a ...
I much esteem the rubber-stamp cartoons, Symbols of paleozoic pedigree --Age-battered emblems that for moons and moonsHave roused ...
Among the folks who write me, From Frisco to Cape Ann,Is one from whom I often hear,And whom, I ...
When quacks with pills political would dope us, When politics absorbs the livelong day, I like to think ...
We stand at Armageddon, and we battle for the Lord, And all we ask to stead us ...
O Comic Spirit, hovering overhead, With sage's brows and finely-tempered smile, Prom whose bowed lips a silvery laugh ...
Now fare they forth to battle, And none for peace shall sue;And ye who sneer and cavil -- ...
Behold the mighty dinosaur,Famous in prehistoric lore,Not only for his weight and length,But for his intellectual strength.You will observe by ...
Across the places deep and dim, And places brown and bare, It reaches to the planet s rim ...
(In the manner of Ezra Pound)Will people accept them? (i.e. these bargains)O dainty colorings and range of prices!Gowns of ...
Sometimes our welcome has no tongue; Children are often in the way.We tolerate them while they are young, ...
Time's the Master Critic, Only he can sayWhat, among these verses,Good and bad and worse is -- ...
In summer I'm disposed to shirk,As summer is no time to work.In winter inspiration diesFor lack of out-door exercise.In spring ...
When as galoshed my Julia goes, Unbuckled all from top to toes, How swift the poem becometh prose! And when ...
Whan that Aprilly with hise shoures soote The droghte of March had perced to the roote, I druv a motor ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories