Poetry, Volume 8Harriet Monroe Modern Poetry Association, 1916 |
Dall'interno del libro
Risultati 1-5 di 44
Pagina
... Dead C ter - You Ca -This Con Booker Was Charlotte Becker 133 Madison Cawein 134 Vent Thompson Rich 136 eofas Jurgelionis 138 ning to the Mob- ogy . dicals - The Brooke 140 . 148 157 . 159 New Bo -III nt - No by H ISS All rights ...
... Dead C ter - You Ca -This Con Booker Was Charlotte Becker 133 Madison Cawein 134 Vent Thompson Rich 136 eofas Jurgelionis 138 ning to the Mob- ogy . dicals - The Brooke 140 . 148 157 . 159 New Bo -III nt - No by H ISS All rights ...
Pagina iii
... Dead Loon To No One in Particular 300 300 301 302 302 The Earth - clasp 302 Wisdom Cawein , Madison : The Wood Brook The Dead Child . Conkling , Elsa : Summertime , I - X Conkling , Hilda : Songs , I - VIII Drinkwater , John ...
... Dead Loon To No One in Particular 300 300 301 302 302 The Earth - clasp 302 Wisdom Cawein , Madison : The Wood Brook The Dead Child . Conkling , Elsa : Summertime , I - X Conkling , Hilda : Songs , I - VIII Drinkwater , John ...
Pagina viii
... Dead Irish Poets : I , Padraic Colum II , Joseph Campbell James Whitcomb Riley , H. M. Of Editors and Poets , A. C. H. REVIEWS : 260 267 268 272 305 308 Modern Monologues , Amy Lowell Flash - lights , by Mary Aldis A Parodist , H. B. F. ...
... Dead Irish Poets : I , Padraic Colum II , Joseph Campbell James Whitcomb Riley , H. M. Of Editors and Poets , A. C. H. REVIEWS : 260 267 268 272 305 308 Modern Monologues , Amy Lowell Flash - lights , by Mary Aldis A Parodist , H. B. F. ...
Pagina 2
... dead leaf in the mud , And she found flowers in the children's hair . Then she was gone and I am seeking her : And every time at evening when it rains , And every time at morning , when the sun Bathes in the beauty of that leafy place ...
... dead leaf in the mud , And she found flowers in the children's hair . Then she was gone and I am seeking her : And every time at evening when it rains , And every time at morning , when the sun Bathes in the beauty of that leafy place ...
Pagina 3
... dead , That every nightfall step the stair , Awaiting the Nativity . Now she will rise in her despair To look out through the leaden panes Between the wall - bed and the hearth ; And hear the wind like sea - waves there . She does not ...
... dead , That every nightfall step the stair , Awaiting the Nativity . Now she will rise in her despair To look out through the leaden panes Between the wall - bed and the hearth ; And hear the wind like sea - waves there . She does not ...
Altre edizioni - Visualizza tutto
Parole e frasi comuni
Alfred Kreymborg Allen Upward American Amy Lowell artist beauty book of verse Bowing most politely candle Chicago color Darío dead Douglas Goldring dreams earth Edgar Lee Masters editor English eyes F. S. Flint feel flowers green hands Harriet Monroe heart human imagists Interlocutor John Brown John Gould Fletcher King Solomon lady laugh leaves Legree light little girl little mother look lyric Macmillan Maeterlinck magazine Masefield Masters Max Michelson Miss modern moon never night Old John Brown Orrick Johns passion play poems poet poet's Poetry Society prize published Queen of Sheba Rubén Darío Rupert Brooke Sandburg Second Chinese Second Negro seems shadows Shakespeare Shelley singing smiled song sonnets soul spirit stars things Third Chinese thou thought Three Travelers Watch trees Verhaeren Watch a Sunrise waves wind words writing yellow York young youth
Brani popolari
Pagina 92 - Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the little soft cities...
Pagina 314 - ... Festoon you with may. Time, you old gipsy, Why hasten away? Last week in Babylon, Last night in Rome, Morning, and in the crush Under Paul's dome; Under Paul's dial You tighten your rein — Only a moment, And off once again ; Off to some city Now blind in the womb, Off to another Ere that's in the tomb. Time, you old gipsy man, Will you not stay, Put up your caravan Just for one day?
Pagina 294 - He laughed like an irresponsible foetus. His laughter was submarine and profound Like the old man of the sea's Hidden under coral islands Where worried bodies of drowned men drift down in the green silence, Dropping from fingers of surf.
Pagina 277 - ... patron of thieves, Give me in due time, I beseech you, a little tobacco-shop, With the little bright boxes piled up neatly upon the shelves And the loose fragrant cavendish and the shag, And the bright Virginia loose under the bright glass cases, And a pair of scales not too greasy, And the whores dropping in for a word or two in passing, For a flip word, and to tidy their hair a bit. O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patron of thieves, Lend me a little tobacco-shop, or install me in any profession...
Pagina 315 - The Example Here's an example from A Butterfly; That on a rough, hard rock Happy can lie; Friendless and all alone On this unsweetened stone. Now let my bed be hard, No care take I; I'll make my joy like this Small Butterfly; Whose happy heart has power To make a stone a flower.
Pagina 38 - And those eyes, the break of day, Lights that do mislead the morn : But my kisses bring again, Seals of love, but seal'd in vain. Hide, oh, hide those hills of snow, Which thy frozen bosom bears, On whose tops the pinks that grow Are of those that April wears. But first set my poor heart free, Bound in those icy chains by thee.
Pagina 47 - 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 292 - CONVERSATION GALANTE I observe: "Our sentimental friend, the moon! Or possibly (fantastic, I confess) It may be Prester John's balloon Or an old battered lantern hung aloft To light poor travellers to their distress.
Pagina 20 - ... wings, those wings! So white that my eyes were blinded, thick-feathered and wide unfurled, They beat the air into billows. We sailed, and the earth was gone. Canyon and desert and mesa withered below, with the world. And then I knew that mustang; for I — was Bellerophon! Yes, glad as the Greek, and mounted on a horse of the elder gods, With never a magic bridle or a fountain-mirror nigh! My chaps and spurs and holster must have looked it?
Pagina 114 - Played for Old John Brown. I heard the ram's horn blow, Blow for Old John Brown. I saw the Bulls of Bashan — They cheered for Old John Brown. I saw the big Behemoth — He cheered for Old John Brown. I saw the big Leviathan — He cheered for Old John Brown.