In the month of the long decline of roses I, beholding the summer dead before me, Set my face to the sea and journeyed silent, Gazing eagerly where above the sea-mark...
O you chorus of indolent reviewers, Irresponsible, indolent reviewers, Look, I come to the test, a tiny poem All composed in a metre of Catullus, All in quantity, careful of my motion,...
How the red bells rang As I neared the Chaos-shore! As I flew across to the end of the West The young bells rang and rang Above the Chaos roar, And the Wings of the Morning Beat in tune...
De Hen-roost Man he'll preach about Paul, An' James an' John, an' Herod, an' all, But nuver a word about Peter, oh, no! He's afeard he'll hear dat rooster crow. An' he ain't by 'isself in dat, in dat,...
Yellow leaves, how fast they flutter - woodland hollows thickly strewing, Where the wan October sunbeams scantly in the mid-day win, While the dim gray clouds are drifting, and in saddened hues imbuing...
O'er the wide heath now moon-tide horrors hung, And night's dark pencil dimm'd the tints of spring; The boding minstrel now harsh omens sung, And the bat spread his dark nocturnal wing. ...
I reached the highest place in Spoon River, But through what bitterness of spirit! The face of my father, sitting speechless, Child-like, watching his canaries, And looking at the court-house window...
Not from the ranks of those we call Philosopher or Admiral,-- Neither as LOCKE was, nor as BLAKE, Is that Great Genius for whose sake We keep this Autumn festival....
I came to buy a book. It was a shop Down in a narrow quiet street, and here They kept, I knew, these socialistic books. I entered. All was bare, but clean and neat....
Whoever thou art who passest by Know that my father was gentle, And my mother was violent, While I was born the whole of such hostile halves, Not intermixed and fused,...
The Text is from a copy taken down from North Devon tradition by the Rev. S. Baring Gould, and printed by Child; since when other versions have been found still in circulation in England. A Sussex version, though perhaps derive...
Henry Murray, father of Elenor Murray, Willing to tell the coroner Merival All things about himself, about his wife, All things as well about his daughter, touching Her growth, and home life, if the coroner...
I was the Sunday-school superintendent, The dummy president of the wagon works And the canning factory, Acting for Thomas Rhodes and the banking clique; My son the cashier of the bank,...
The poet wishes well to the divine genius of Purcell and praises him that, whereas other musicians have given utterance to the moods of man's mind, he has, beyond that, uttered in notes the very make and species of man as creat...
It was a little island where he dwelt, Or rather a lone rock, barren and bleak, Short scanty herbage spotting with dark spots Its gray stone surface. Never mariner Approach'd that rude and uninviting coast,...