Octaves (Edwin Arlington Robinson Poems)
I We thrill too strangely at the master's touch; We shrink too sadly from the larger self Which for its ...
I We thrill too strangely at the master's touch; We shrink too sadly from the larger self Which for its ...
If ever I am old, and all alone, I shall have killed one grief, at any rate; For then, thank ...
Aunt Imogen was coming, and therefore The children-Jane, Sylvester, and Young George- Were eyes and ears; for there was only ...
In Tilbury Town did Old King Cole A wise old age anticipate, Desiring, with his pipe and bowl, No Khan's ...
Though for your sake I would not have you now So near to me tonight as now you are, God ...
There were faces to remember in the Valley of the Shadow, There were faces unregarded, there were faces to forget; ...
I Partly to think, more to be left alone, George Annandale said something to his friends- A word or two, ...
I Not by the grief that stuns and overwhelms All outward recognition of revealed And righteous omnipresence are the days ...
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