Poetry, Volume 3

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Harriet Monroe
Modern Poetry Association, 1914 - American poetry
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Page 215 - If any, speak ; for him have I offended. Who is here so rude, that would not be a Roman ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. Who is here so vile, that will not love his country ? If any, speak ; for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.
Page 191 - Hog Butcher for the World, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat; Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler; Stormy, husky, brawling, City of the Big Shoulders...
Page 67 - Besides, this Duncan Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been So clear in his great office, that his virtues Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against The deep damnation of his taking-off...
Page 207 - And all her doubts of what he says Are dimmed with what she knows of days — Till even prejudice delays And fades, and she secures him. The falling leaf inaugurates The reign of her confusion; The pounding wave reverberates The dirge of her illusion; And home, where passion lived and died, Becomes a place where she can hide, While all the town and harbor side Vibrate with her seclusion.
Page 207 - ... seclusion. We tell you, tapping on our brows, The story as it should be, — As if the story of a house Were told, or ever could be; We'll have no kindly veil between Her visions and those we have seen,— As if we guessed what hers have been, Or what they are or would be. Meanwhile we do no harm; for they That with a god have striven, Not hearing much of what we say, Take what the god has given; Though like waves breaking it may be, Or like a changed familiar tree, Or like a stairway to the...
Page 206 - And Love, that will not let him be The Judas that she found him, Her pride assuages her almost, As if it were alone the cost.— He sees that he will not be lost, And waits and looks around him. A sense of ocean...
Page 85 - Lacquered mandarin moments, palanquins swaying and balancing Amid the vermilion pavilions, against the jade balustrades; Glint of the glittering wings of dragon-flies in the light; Silver filaments, golden flakes settling downwards; Rippling, quivering flutters; repulse and surrender, The sun broidered upon the rain, The rain rustling with the sun. Over the roof-tops race the shadows of clouds, Like horses the shadows of clouds charge down the street.
Page 105 - I closed my lids, and kept them close, And the balls like pulses beat ; For the sky and the sea, and the sea and the sky, Lay like a load on my weary eye, And the dead were at my feet...
Page 12 - With orange, crimson, purple. The low haze Dims the scarped bluffs above the inland sea, Whose wide and slaty waters in cold glaze Await yon full-moon of the night-to-be.
Page 159 - I love my life, but not too well. I love my life, but not too well To sing it note by note away, So to thy soul the song may tell The beauty of the desolate day. I love my life, but not too well. I love my life, but not too well...

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