Modern American Poetry

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Louis Untermeyer
Harcourt, Brace, 1921 - 406 pagini

Din interiorul cărții

Cuprins

I
xvii
II
3
III
7
IV
10
V
15
VI
21
VII
25
VIII
27
L
211
LI
215
LII
232
LIII
235
LIV
238
LV
241
LVI
246
LVII
256

IX
33
X
38
XI
42
XII
47
XIII
53
XIV
55
XV
60
XVI
61
XVII
63
XVIII
69
XIX
71
XX
75
XXI
78
XXII
80
XXIII
82
XXIV
87
XXV
89
XXVI
91
XXVII
97
XXVIII
101
XXIX
102
XXX
107
XXXI
109
XXXII
119
XXXIII
126
XXXIV
129
XXXV
133
XXXVI
137
XXXVII
142
XXXVIII
150
XXXIX
157
XL
162
XLI
171
XLII
174
XLIII
193
XLIV
194
XLV
196
XLVI
205
XLVII
207
XLVIII
209
XLIX
210
LVIII
260
LIX
264
LX
267
LXI
271
LXII
274
LXIII
278
LXIV
279
LXV
281
LXVI
284
LXVII
287
LXVIII
291
LXIX
296
LXX
298
LXXI
303
LXXII
312
LXXIII
317
LXXIV
325
LXXV
329
LXXVI
335
LXXVII
338
LXXVIII
342
LXXIX
343
LXXX
344
LXXXI
348
LXXXII
350
LXXXIII
352
LXXXIV
354
LXXXV
356
LXXXVI
365
LXXXVII
366
LXXXVIII
367
LXXXIX
369
XC
371
XCI
382
XCII
383
XCIII
385
XCIV
386
XCV
388
XCVI
391
XCVII
392
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Pagina 19 - Which is why I remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar — Which the same I am free to maintain.
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 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 352 - twere better to be deep Pillowed in silk and scented down, Where love throbs out in blissful sleep, Pulse nigh to pulse, and breath to breath, Where hushed awakenings are dear . . . But I've a rendezvous with Death...
Pagina 178 - Before I built a wall I'd ask to know What I was walling in or walling out, And to whom I was like to give offense. Something there is that doesn't love a wall, That wants it down." I could say "Elves" to him, But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather He said it for himself.
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 118 - Good-morning," and he glittered when he walked. And he was rich — yes, richer than a king — And admirably schooled in every grace: In fine, we thought that he was everything To make us wish that we were in his place. So on we worked, and waited for the light, And went without the meat, and cursed...
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 12 - Belle took fire, A thousand times he swore He'd hold her nozzle agin the bank Till the last soul got ashore. All boats has their day on the Mississip, And her day come at last. The Movastar was a better boat, But the Belle she wouldn't be passed, And so she come tearin...
Pagina 199 - Pocahontas' body, lovely as a poplar, sweet as a red haw in November or a pawpaw in May, did she wonder? does she remember? ... in the dust, in the cool tombs? Take any streetful of people buying clothes and groceries, cheering a hero or throwing confetti and blowing tin horns . . . tell me if the lovers are losers . . . tell me if any get more than the lovers ... in the dust ... in the cool tombs.

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