Poetry, Volume 8Harriet Monroe Modern Poetry Association, 1916 |
Dall'interno del libro
Risultati 1-5 di 42
Pagina 2
... looks into an urchin's eyes To see if April tears or smiles are there , And the wet dust scents summer leagues away , I hold my breath - the Eternal Maid returns . A BRETON NIGHT The winter seal is on the door . Three women sit beside ...
... looks into an urchin's eyes To see if April tears or smiles are there , And the wet dust scents summer leagues away , I hold my breath - the Eternal Maid returns . A BRETON NIGHT The winter seal is on the door . Three women sit beside ...
Pagina 3
... look out through the leaden panes Between the wall - bed and the hearth ; And hear the wind like sea - waves there . She does not know how , in the earth , The dark blind seed doth hear the wind , And think of death , and dream of birth ...
... look out through the leaden panes Between the wall - bed and the hearth ; And hear the wind like sea - waves there . She does not know how , in the earth , The dark blind seed doth hear the wind , And think of death , and dream of birth ...
Pagina 4
... be . When you see the dog cast for the ewe in the snow ; When you watch the mother - thrush , with her nest broke below ; The Woman of Sorrows Or look in the eyes of [ 4 ] POETRY : A Magazine of Verse The Woman of Sorrows.
... be . When you see the dog cast for the ewe in the snow ; When you watch the mother - thrush , with her nest broke below ; The Woman of Sorrows Or look in the eyes of [ 4 ] POETRY : A Magazine of Verse The Woman of Sorrows.
Pagina 5
Harriet Monroe. The Woman of Sorrows Or look in the eyes of the dead that cannot look , You may think of my baby and the breast it forsook . NESTA'S MORNING SONG I lived in the shadow , The vesper - moth mine That hates the green meadow ...
Harriet Monroe. The Woman of Sorrows Or look in the eyes of the dead that cannot look , You may think of my baby and the breast it forsook . NESTA'S MORNING SONG I lived in the shadow , The vesper - moth mine That hates the green meadow ...
Pagina 9
... look at me with pity scarce concealed And curious wonder - me the dusty spider Spinning my web in this obdurate room , While eager tongues can scarcely pause an hour From ripples of speech . Ah , Lord , I am afraid ! For when I think to ...
... look at me with pity scarce concealed And curious wonder - me the dusty spider Spinning my web in this obdurate room , While eager tongues can scarcely pause an hour From ripples of speech . Ah , Lord , I am afraid ! For when I think to ...
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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.