Poetry, Том 6Harriet Monroe Modern Poetry Association, 1915 |
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Сторінка vi
... Moon ' The City Lights from a Skyscraper The flarp of the Wind The Organ Angels Silent Ones The Voices Smith , Clark Ashton : Fire of Snow In the Wind Smith , Lewis Worthington : Aglavaine Driftwood Syrian , Ajan : I SING OF MY LIFE ...
... Moon ' The City Lights from a Skyscraper The flarp of the Wind The Organ Angels Silent Ones The Voices Smith , Clark Ashton : Fire of Snow In the Wind Smith , Lewis Worthington : Aglavaine Driftwood Syrian , Ajan : I SING OF MY LIFE ...
Сторінка 39
... moon - archery- Nay , all our longing compassed not such hope , Nor did we in our flame - shot passagings , Push the horizon of our visions ' scope To regions [ 39 ] Sonnets of a Portrait Painter, by Arthur Davison Ficke.
... moon - archery- Nay , all our longing compassed not such hope , Nor did we in our flame - shot passagings , Push the horizon of our visions ' scope To regions [ 39 ] Sonnets of a Portrait Painter, by Arthur Davison Ficke.
Сторінка 60
... moons have waxed and waned And I am dust and smoke , Men shall behold my handiwork And praise the master - stroke . -O sluggard , leave your idle ways- Behold our bitter dearth ! We shiver in the frosty wind And couch upon the earth ...
... moons have waxed and waned And I am dust and smoke , Men shall behold my handiwork And praise the master - stroke . -O sluggard , leave your idle ways- Behold our bitter dearth ! We shiver in the frosty wind And couch upon the earth ...
Сторінка 68
... moon Troubled the night with her beauty ? A VIVID GIRL Her face is fair and smooth and fine , Childlike , with secret laughter lit , Drooping in pity , bright with wit , A flower , a flame - God fashioned it . Who sees her tastes the ...
... moon Troubled the night with her beauty ? A VIVID GIRL Her face is fair and smooth and fine , Childlike , with secret laughter lit , Drooping in pity , bright with wit , A flower , a flame - God fashioned it . Who sees her tastes the ...
Сторінка 73
... moon . LOVERS Whate'er our joy compelled , men's praise and blame fall hollow , A voice upon the winds that drown it as they blow : So fair a vision led , our thought was all to follow ; So strong a passion urged , our will was all to ...
... moon . LOVERS Whate'er our joy compelled , men's praise and blame fall hollow , A voice upon the winds that drown it as they blow : So fair a vision led , our thought was all to follow ; So strong a passion urged , our will was all to ...
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Сторінка 117 - There will be time, there will be time To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet; There will be time to murder and create, And time for all the works and days of hands That lift and drop a question on your plate...
Сторінка 121 - No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be; Am an attendant lord, one that will do To swell a progress, start a scene or two, Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool, Deferential, glad to be of use, Politic, cautious, and meticulous; Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse; At times, indeed, almost ridiculous — Almost, at times, the Fool. I grow old ... I grow old ... I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
Сторінка 10 - England. There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed ; A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.
Сторінка 117 - The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening, Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains, Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys, Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, And seeing that it was a soft October night, Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
Сторінка 116 - Let us go then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like a patient etherised upon a table...
Сторінка 80 - I HEAR a sudden cry of pain ! There is a rabbit in a snare : Now I hear the cry again, But I cannot tell from where. But I cannot tell from where He is calling out for aid ; Crying on the frightened air, Making everything afraid. Making everything afraid, Wrinkling up his little face, As he cries again for aid ; And I cannot find the place ! And I cannot find the place Where his paw is in the snare : Little one ! Oh, little one ! I am searching everywhere.
Сторінка 121 - I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled. Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach? I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach. I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each. I do not think that they will sing to me.
Сторінка 273 - Music I heard with you was more than music, And bread I broke with you was more than bread; Now that I am without you, all is desolate; All that was once so beautiful is dead. Your hands once touched this table and this silver, And I have seen your fingers hold this glass. These things do not remember you, beloved, And yet your touch upon them will not pass. For it was in my heart you moved among them, And blessed them with your hands and with your eyes; And in my heart they will remember always,—...
Сторінка 117 - Time for you and time for me, And time yet for a hundred indecisions, And for a hundred visions and revisions, Before the taking of a toast and tea. In the room the women come and go Talking of Michelangelo. And indeed there will be time To wonder, "Do I dare?
Сторінка 120 - Would it have been worth while, After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets. After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor — And this, and so much more? — It is impossible to say just what I mean! But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: Would it have been worth while If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl, And turning toward the window, should say: 'That is not it at all, That is not what I meant, at all.