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First Impressions: Essays on Poetry, Criticism, and Prosody
Visualizzazione completa - 1925
accent achievement actual aesthetic already America artist beautiful begins Carl Sandburg certainly character collected comes course criticism death decorative effect English example experience expression eyes face fact feel feet followed free verse give hand hear heart human idea imagine instance interest kind later least leaves less light living look lyric matter mean merely metre metrical mind Miss Miss Lowell Moore moral mother moves natural never once perhaps philosophic picture play poem poet poetic poetry practical present prose published purely question quoted reader rhythm Sandburg seen sense side simply sort speak spirit story suggest syllables tells thing thought tion told turn volume whole wind woman writing written young
Pagina 207 - Why, let the stricken deer go weep, The hart ungalled play; For some must watch, while some must sleep; So runs the world away.
Pagina 92 - The lost, that in armies wept over your funeral pall? They call on the names of a hundred high-valiant ones, A hundred white eagles have risen the sons of your sons, The zeal in their wings is a zeal that your dreaming began The valor that wore out your soul in the service of man.
Pagina 36 - The Pasture I'm going out to clean the pasture spring; I'll only stop to rake the leaves away (And wait to watch the water clear, I may): I shan't be gone long. — You come too. I'm going out to fetch the little calf That's standing by the mother. It's so young, It totters when she licks it with her tongue. I sha'n't be gone long. — You come too.
Pagina 244 - LONDON SNOW When men were all asleep the snow came flying, In large white flakes falling on the city brown, Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying, Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town; Deadening, muffling, stifling its murmurs failing; Lazily and incessantly floating down and down; Silently sifting and veiling road, roof and railing; Hiding difference, making unevenness even, Into angles and crevices softly drifting and sailing.
Pagina 140 - Are nine and fifty swans. The nineteenth Autumn has come upon me Since I first made my count; I saw, before I had well finished, All suddenly mount And scatter, wheeling, in great broken rings Upon their clamorous wings. I have looked upon those brilliant creatures, And now my heart is sore. All's changed...
Pagina 19 - Where was he going, this man against the sky ? You know not, nor do I. But this we know, if we know anything : That we may laugh and fight and sing And of our transience here make offering To an orient Word that will not be erased, Or, save in incommunicable gleams Too permanent for dreams, Be found or known.
Pagina 136 - I MADE my song a coat Covered with embroideries Out of old mythologies From heel to throat; But the fools caught it, Wore it in the world's eyes As though they'd wrought it. Song, let them take it, For there's more enterprise In walking naked.
Pagina 46 - The Sound of the Trees I wonder about the trees. Why do we wish to bear Forever the noise of these More than another noise So close to our dwelling place? We suffer them by the day Till we lose all measure of pace, And fixity in our joys, And acquire a listening air. They are that that talks of going But never gets away; And that talks no less for knowing, As it grows wiser and older, That now it means to stay.
Pagina 117 - WOMEN Women have no wilderness in them, They are provident instead, Content in the tight hot cell of their hearts To eat dusty bread. They do not see cattle cropping red winter grass, They do not hear Snow water going down under culverts Shallow and clear. They wait, when they should turn to journeys, They stiffen, when they should bend. They use against themselves that benevolence To which no man is friend. They cannot think of so many...