Modern American PoetryLouis Untermeyer Harcourt, Brace, 1921 - 406 pagini |
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Pagina 8
... stones , these poems of his which have the best chance of permanence are some of the epigrams , the short lyrics and a few of the sonnets , passionless in tone but exquisite in design . The best of Aldrich's diffuse poetry has been ...
... stones , these poems of his which have the best chance of permanence are some of the epigrams , the short lyrics and a few of the sonnets , passionless in tone but exquisite in design . The best of Aldrich's diffuse poetry has been ...
Pagina 30
... stone Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl , And many a luminous jewel lone -Crystals clear or acloud with mist , Ruby , garnet and amethyst- Made lures with the lights of streaming stone In the clefts of the hills of Habersham ...
... stone Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl , And many a luminous jewel lone -Crystals clear or acloud with mist , Ruby , garnet and amethyst- Made lures with the lights of streaming stone In the clefts of the hills of Habersham ...
Pagina 37
... stone ; And we carry home as prizes Funny bugs , of handy sizes , Just to give the day a scientific tone . If the roads are wet and muddy We remain at home and study , - For the Goat is very clever at a sum , - And the Dog , instead of ...
... stone ; And we carry home as prizes Funny bugs , of handy sizes , Just to give the day a scientific tone . If the roads are wet and muddy We remain at home and study , - For the Goat is very clever at a sum , - And the Dog , instead of ...
Pagina 66
... stones When for ten days they expiate a spree ) : Behold the deeds that are done of Mrs. Jones ! One night and one day have I wept my woe ; Nor wot I , when the morrow doth begin , If I shall have to write to Briggs & Co. , To pray them ...
... stones When for ten days they expiate a spree ) : Behold the deeds that are done of Mrs. Jones ! One night and one day have I wept my woe ; Nor wot I , when the morrow doth begin , If I shall have to write to Briggs & Co. , To pray them ...
Pagina 104
... stood within the heart of God ; It seemed a place I had known : ( I was blood - sister to the clod , Blood - brother to the stone . ) I found my love and labor there , My house 104 William Vaughn Moody Pandora's Song.
... stood within the heart of God ; It seemed a place I had known : ( I was blood - sister to the clod , Blood - brother to the stone . ) I found my love and labor there , My house 104 William Vaughn Moody Pandora's Song.
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Amy Lowell Anthology ballads beauty beneath birds blood blue boomlay born Bret Harte bright Chicago Poems College colors Copyright dark dawn dead dear world death dream dust earth Edgar Lee Masters eyes face feet flame flowers Frost glory grass Guy Wetmore Carryl hand heart heaven hills Hovey Imagists John Gould Fletcher knew later laughed light Lindsay lines literary lived look Macmillan Company Miniver Miss moon never night play poems poet poetic poetry published Reprinted by permission rhyme Richard Hovey Robinson Sandburg Sara Teasdale shine silence silver sing sleep smile Smoke song soul spirit Spoon River Spoon River Anthology spring stars steel stone sweet things thou thought trail trees turned verse voice volume walk wall Whitman wild William Rose Benét William Vaughn Moody wind write York
Pasaje populare
Pagina 326 - 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 112 - Miniver mourned the ripe renown That made so many a name so fragrant; He mourned Romance, now on the town, And Art a vagrant. Miniver loved the Medici, Albeit he had never seen one; He would have sinned incessantly Could he have been one.
Pagina 40 - And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens, And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence ; O, it's then's the times a feller is a-feelin' at his best, With the risin...
Pagina 118 - 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,' and he glittered when he walked.
Pagina 45 - And his musket moulds in his hands. Time was when the little toy dog was new, And the soldier was passing fair; And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue Kissed them and put them there. "Now, don't you go till I come,
Pagina 340 - 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 352 - I Have a Rendez-Vous with Death I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple blossoms fill the air — I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and fair. It may be he shall take my hand, And lead me into his dark land, And close my eyes and quench my breath — It may be I shall pass him still. I have a rendezvous with Death...
Pagina 51 - Here was a man to hold against the world, A man to match the mountains and the sea. The color of the ground was in him, the red earth ; The smack and tang of elemental things; The rectitude and patience of the cliff; The good-will of the rain that loves all leaves; The friendly welcome of the wayside well...
Pagina 30 - Abide, abide, The willful waterweeds held me thrall, The laving laurel turned my tide, The ferns and the fondling grass said Stay, The dewberry dipped for to work delay, And the little reeds sighed Abide, abide, Here in the hills of Habersham, Here in the valleys of Hall.
Pagina 351 - I have a rendezvous with Death At some disputed barricade, When Spring comes back with rustling shade And apple-blossoms fill the air — I have a rendezvous with Death When Spring brings back blue days and fair. It may be he shall take my hand And lead me into his dark land And close my eyes and quench my breath — It may be I shall pass him still. I have a rendezvous with Death On some scarred slope of battered hill, When Spring comes round again this year And the first meadow-flowers appear.