Modern American PoetryLouis Untermeyer Harcourt, Brace, 1921 - 406 pagini |
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Pagina 34
... York , but on retiring from business , removed to Boston and lived there until his death , which occurred in the summer of 1920 . THE PLAINT OF THE CAMEL " Canary - birds feed on sugar and seed , Parrots have crackers to crunch ; And as ...
... York , but on retiring from business , removed to Boston and lived there until his death , which occurred in the summer of 1920 . THE PLAINT OF THE CAMEL " Canary - birds feed on sugar and seed , Parrots have crackers to crunch ; And as ...
Pagina 48
... York . OUTWITTED He drew a circle that shut me out- Heretic , rebel , a thing to flout . But Love and I had the wit to win : We drew a circle that took him in ! THE MAN WITH THE HOE1 ( Written after seeing Millet's 48 Edwin Markham ...
... York . OUTWITTED He drew a circle that shut me out- Heretic , rebel , a thing to flout . But Love and I had the wit to win : We drew a circle that took him in ! THE MAN WITH THE HOE1 ( Written after seeing Millet's 48 Edwin Markham ...
Pagina 55
... York , working his way down to New Orleans on a coast steamer , trying to rehabilitate himself as reporter on the New Orleans Picayune . But illness pursued him and the following December Russell died , cut off , in the midst of his ...
... York , working his way down to New Orleans on a coast steamer , trying to rehabilitate himself as reporter on the New Orleans Picayune . But illness pursued him and the following December Russell died , cut off , in the midst of his ...
Pagina 60
... York since 1888 . Miss Thomas is the author of some dozen books of verse , most of them lightly lyrical in mood , although many of her individual poems have a spiritually dramatic quality . The best of her work may be found in Lyrics ...
... York since 1888 . Miss Thomas is the author of some dozen books of verse , most of them lightly lyrical in mood , although many of her individual poems have a spiritually dramatic quality . The best of her work may be found in Lyrics ...
Pagina 63
... York , in 1855. At twenty - two he was appointed editor of Puck ( then the most prominent of comic weeklies ) , a position which he held until his death . For more than ten years he wrote almost all the rhymed contributions to that ...
... York , in 1855. At twenty - two he was appointed editor of Puck ( then the most prominent of comic weeklies ) , a position which he held until his death . For more than ten years he wrote almost all the rhymed contributions to that ...
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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.