New Voices: An Introduction to Contemporary Poetry

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Pagina 71 - Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, while the evil days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have no pleasure in them; 2.
Pagina 65 - And he felt in his heart their strangeness, Their stillness answering his cry, While his horse moved, cropping the dark turf, 'Neath the starred and leafy sky; For he suddenly smote on the door, even Louder, and lifted his head: — "Tell them I came, and no one answered, That I kept my word,
Pagina 71 - In the day when the keepers of the house shall tremble, and the strong men shall bow themselves, and the grinders cease because they are few, and those that look out of the windows be darkened.
Pagina 93 - 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; The courage of the bird that dares the sea; The gladness of the wind that shakes the corn; The...
Pagina 353 - 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 53 - Oh, just another kind of out-door game, One on a side. It comes to little more: There where it is we do not need the wall: He is all pine and I am apple orchard. My apple trees will never get across And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. He only says, "Good fences make good neighbors.
Pagina 96 - Slowly, silently, now the moon Walks the night in her silver shoon; This way, and that, she peers and sees Silver fruit upon silver trees...
Pagina 94 - The tolerance and equity of light That gives as freely to the shrinking flower As to the great oak flaring to the wind — To the grave's low hill- as to the Matterhorn That shoulders out the sky.
Pagina 298 - I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree...
Pagina 64 - Is there anybody there?" said the Traveller, Knocking on the moonlit door; And his horse in the silence champed the grasses Of the forest's ferny floor; And a bird flew up out of the turret, Above the Traveller's head. And he smote upon the door again a second time; "Is there anybody there?

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