The New Poetry: An AnthologyHarriet Monroe, Alice Corbin Henderson Macmillan, 1917 - 404 pagine |
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Aladdin apple-picking Bass drums beauty beneath bird blood blue boomlay breast bright brother Cæsar's Chinese dragons cloud cold Curithir D. H. Lawrence dance dark dawn dead dear death door Douglas Hyde dreams earth English poetry eyes F. S. Flint face fall fear feet fire flame flowers forever garden gold gone grass gray green hair hand hear heard heart heaven hill hoo-doo kiss knew laughed laughter leaves Liadain light lips live look lover mandolin MONTAGNE SAINTE-GENEVIÈVE moon never night pale Pamplona pass poetry praise rain rose sang shadows shining silence silver sing Skipwith Cannell sleep smile song sorrow soul stars stir stone strange sweet T. S. Eliot tell thee things thou tree walk wall watch weeping whispers Wilfrid Wilson Gibson wind wings woman wonder yellow
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Pagina 259 - Whenever Richard Cory went down town, We people on the pavement looked at him: He was a gentleman from sole to crown, Clean favored, and imperially slim. And he was always quietly arrayed, And he was always human when he talked; But still he fluttered pulses when he said, "Good morning...
Pagina 140 - 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 122 - I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth's sweet flowing breast; A tree that looks at God all day, And lifts her leafy arms to pray; A tree that may in summer wear A nest of robins in her hair; Upon whose bosom snow has lain; Who intimately lives with rain. Poems are made by fools like me, But only God can make a tree.
Pagina 140 - Oh, shout Salvation! It was good to see Kings and Princes by the Lamb set free. The banjos rattled and the tambourines Jing-jing-jingled in the hands of Queens. (Reverently sung, no instruments.) And when Booth halted by the curb for prayer He saw his Master thro
Pagina 296 - But in contentment I still feel The need of some imperishable bliss." Death is the mother of beauty; hence from her, Alone, shall come fulfilment to our dreams And our desires. Although she strews the leaves...
Pagina 297 - Supple and turbulent, a ring of men Shall chant in orgy on a summer morn Their boisterous devotion to the sun, Not as a god, but as a god might be, Naked among them, like a savage source.
Pagina 38 - Oread WHIRL UP, sea — whirl your pointed pines, splash your great pines on our rocks, hurl your green over us, cover us with your pools of fir.
Pagina 230 - ... see the tentative Movements, and the slow feet, The trouble in the pace and the uncertain Wavering! See, they return, one, and by one, With fear, as half-awakened; As if the snow should hesitate And murmur in the wind, and half turn back ; These were the " Wing'd-with-Awe,
Pagina 245 - At sixteen you departed, You went into far Ku-to-yen, by the river of swirling eddies, And you have been gone five months. The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead.
Pagina 141 - With a silk umbrella and the handle of a broom, Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, BOOM. Then I had religion, then I had a vision, I could not turn from their revel in derision. Then I saw the Congo, creeping through the black, Cutting through the forest with a golden track.