The Black Art (Anne Sexton Poems)
A woman who writes feels too much, those trances and portents! As if cycles and children and islands weren't enough; ...
A woman who writes feels too much, those trances and portents! As if cycles and children and islands weren't enough; ...
To: I at the risk of being customary I wish to make a confession not that it may be true ...
A gentle was Fridolin, And he his mistress dear, Savern's fair Countess, honored in All truth and godly fear. She ...
He stared at me with sad, hurt eyes, That drab, untidy man; And though my clients I despise I do ...
To the Priest, on Observing how most Men mistake their own Talents When beasts could speak (the learned say, They ...
Because I oft in dark abstracted guise Seem most alone in greatest company, With dearth of words, or answers quite ...
Virtue, alas, now let me take some rest. Thou set'st a bate between my soul and wit. If vain love ...
If you refuse me once, and think again, I will complain. You are deceiv'd, love is no work of art, ...
I am a stout materialist; With abstract terms I can't agree, And so I've made a little list Of words ...
The porter in the Pullman car Was charming, as they sometimes are. He scanned my baggage tags: "Are you The ...
Dusting my books I spent a busy day: Not ancient toes, time-hallowed and unread, but modern volumes, classics in their ...
I haven't worn my evening dress For nearly twenty years; Oh I'm unsocial, I confess, A hermit, it appears. So ...
Give me your hand, oh little one! Like children be we two; Yet I am old, my day is done ...
I've often wondered why Old chaps who choose to die In evil passes, Before themselves they slay, Invariably they Take ...
Heaven's mighty sweet, I guess; Ain't no rush to git there: Been a sinner, more or less; Maybe wouldn't fit ...
My mother she had children five and four are dead and gone; While I, least worthy to survive, persist in ...
She I'm waiting for the man I hope to wed. I've never seen him - that's the funny part. I ...
Lo, here the gentle lark, weary of rest, From his moist cabinet mounts up on high, And wakes the morning, ...
For what we owe to other days, Before we poisoned him with praise, May we who shrank to find him ...
(WASHINGTON SQUARE) I met him, as one meets a ghost or two, Between the gray Arch and the old Hotel. ...
(AMSTERDAM, 1645) And there you are again, now as you are. Observe yourself as you discern yourself In your discredited ...
Though not for common praise of him, Nor yet for pride or charity, Still would I make to Vanderberg One ...
WHERE on the bosom of the foamy RHINE, In curling waves the rapid waters shine; Where tow'ring cliffs in awful ...
When SUPERSTITION rul'd the land And Priestcraft shackled Reason, At GODSTOW dwelt a goodly band, Grey monks they were, and ...
DAME DOWSON, was a granny grey, Who, three score years and ten, Had pass'd her busy hours away, In talking ...
In these deep solitudes and awful cells, Where heav'nly-pensive contemplation dwells, And ever-musing melancholy reigns; What means this tumult in ...
Content, the false World's best disguise, The search and faction of the Wise, Is so abstruse and hid in night, ...
"Vocat aestus in umbram" Nemesianus Es. IV. E. P. Ode pour l'élection de son sépulchre For three years, out of ...
These fought in any case, and some believing pro domo, in any case ..... Died some, pro patria, walked eye-deep ...
We have all of us read how the Israelites fled From Egypt with Pharaoh in eager pursuit of 'em, And ...
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