Poetry
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by:
Thomas Crane
My readers, would you like to goabroad, for just an hour or so,With little friends of different ages? Look at them in these pictured pages—Brothers and sisters you can see,—all children of one family.Their father, too, you here will find, and good Miss Earle, their teacher kind.Three years ago their Mother died, and ever since has Father triedTo give his children in the Spring some tour, or treat,...
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STILLNESS Invitingly, the sea shines her stars,captive flames within an impatient heartas darkness loads the pleasent isles with coarseness,slow sparks rise over a roaring fire. And strolling beaches near dawnwhen the sand fleas & crabs are seen to flee,one catches upon the imperfect stillnessa song of one - wind with seadrawning nearinward, such stars turnas bonds at lastworked free. The moon, at...
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by:
Jean C. Archer
CHAPTER I. Mistress O’Hara lives down by the sea, A skittish and beautiful widow is she; She has black shiny tresses, and curly buff toes, And a heavenly tilt to the tip of her nose! She has three little children, the eldest is four (Nurse says he is naughty enough to be more); The Twins are dear dumplings, and they and their brother Are always in scrapes—Of one kind, or another. This morning...
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CANTO XXXII COULD I command rough rhimes and hoarse, to suitThat hole of sorrow, o'er which ev'ry rockHis firm abutment rears, then might the veinOf fancy rise full springing: but not mineSuch measures, and with falt'ring awe I touchThe mighty theme; for to describe the depthOf all the universe, is no emprizeTo jest with, and demands a tongue not us'dTo infant babbling. But let...
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MY "PROMENADE SOLITAIRE" Up and down in my garden fair,Under the trellis where grapes will bloom,With the breath of violets in the air,As pallid Winter for Spring makes room,I walk and ponder, free from care,In my beautiful Promenade Solitaire. Back and forth in the checkered shadeTraced by the lattice that holds the vine,With the glory of snow-capped crests displayedOn the sapphire sky in a...
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by:
Henry Van Dyke
OF BIRDS AND FLOWERS The VeeryThe Song-SparrowThe Maryland Yellow-ThroatThe Whip-Poor-WillWings of a DoveThe Hermit ThrushSea-Gulls of ManhattanThe Ruby-Crowned KingletThe Angler's ReveilleA November DaisyThe Lily of Yorrow II OF SKIES AND SEASONS If All the SkiesThe After-EchoDulcioraMatinsThe Parting and the Coming GuestWhen Tulips BloomSpring in the NorthSpring in the SouthHow Spring Comes to...
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by:
Alfred Gurney
YULE TIDE. TheRoyal Birthday dawns again,A stricken world to bless;And sufferers forget their pain,And mourners their distress. Love sings to-day; her eyes so fairWith happy tears are wet;She is too humble to despair,Too faithful to forget. Her voice is very soft and sweet,Her heart is brave and strong;Her vassal, I would fain repeatSome fragments of her song. A Birthday-song my heart would singIts...
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by:
Sara Teasdale
SPRING NIGHT THE park is filled with night and fog, The veils are drawn about the world, The drowsy lights along the paths Are dim and pearled. Gold and gleaming the empty streets, Gold and gleaming the misty lake, The mirrored lights like sunken swords, Glimmer and shake. Oh, is it not enough to be Here with this beauty over me? My throat...
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THE NUTS OF KNOWLEDGEA cabin on the mountain side hid in a grassy nookWhere door and windows open wide that friendly stars may look.The rabbit shy can patter in, the winds may enter free,Who throng around the mountain throne in living ecstasy.And when the sun sets dimmed in eve and purple fills the air,I think the sacred Hazel Tree is dropping berries thereFrom starry fruitage waved aloft where...
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There is a room upstairs in the old house at Fruitlands in Harvard, Massachusetts, where the visitors pause and look about them with a softening glance and often with visible emotion, as though they felt a sudden nearness to something infinitely intimate and personal. They have come to see the place where Bronson Alcott and the group of transcendentalists cut themselves off from the world in the spring...
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