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A. J. Russell Alpilles American poets Amy Lowell beautiful beggar cried Beggar to beggar beneath bird blue breast cave century charm-sticks Chicago Chorus Clang a ranga cloth comes dance dark dead dear death dream dusk Edith Wyatt England eyes Ezra Pound father firemen's ball frenzy-struck Gallienne give grass hatari hear heart Heaven hosonuno Hueffer Joyce Kilmer Kefu Lady laughed light lips Listen live look lover lyric Macmillan magazine moon mother never night Nishikigi pale Paul Verlaine play poems poetry prose rhetoric running to Paradise sang shadows Shite silver sing Skipwith Cannell soft song soul spirit spring strange sweet tell things town tradition trees Tsure Unconditioned Songs Vachel Lindsay verse voice W. B. Yeats Waki walking wands whisper William Rose Benet wind wine woman word Yeats young
Page 66 - ... she would of late Have taught to ignorant men most violent ways, Or hurled the little streets upon the great, Had they but courage equal to desire? What could have made her peaceful with a mind That nobleness made simple as a fire, With beauty like a tightened bow, a kind That is not natural in an age like this, Being high and solitary and most stern? Why, what could she have done, being what she is ? Was there another Troy for her to burn?
Page 53 - INDIGNANT at the fumbling wits, the obscure spite Of our old Paudeen in his shop, I stumbled blind Among the stones and thorn-trees, under morning light; Until a curlew cried and in the luminous wind A curlew answered; and suddenly thereupon I thought That on the lonely height where all are in God's eye, There cannot be, confusion of our sound forgot, A single soul that lacks a sweet crystalline cry.
Page 52 - To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Nothing NOW all the truth is out, Be secret and take defeat From any brazen throat, For how can you compete, Being honour bred, with one Who, were it proved he lies, Were neither shamed in his own Nor in his neighbours
Page 247 - ... crust So fresh that come in fasts divine! Nostrils, your careless breath that spend Upon the stir and keep of pride, What relish shall the censers send Along the sanctuary side! O feel-of-primrose hands, O feet That want the yield of plushy sward, But you shall walk the golden street And you unhouse and house the Lord. And, Poverty, be thou the bride And now the marriage feast begun, And lily-coloured clothes provide Your spouse not laboured-at nor spun.
Page 244 - Elected Silence, sing to me And beat upon my whorled ear; Pipe' me to pastures still, and be The music that I care to hear.
Page 57 - As I came over Windy Gap They threw a halfpenny into my cap. For I am running to paradise; And all that I need do is to wish And somebody puts his hand in the dish To throw me a bit of salted fish: And there the king is but as the beggar. My brother Mourteen is worn out With skelping his big brawling lout, And I am running to paradise; A poor life, do what he can, And though he keep a dog and a gun, A serving-maid and a serving-man: And there the king is but as the beggar.
Page 211 - The darkness rolls upward. The thick darkness carries with it Rain and a ravel of cloud. The sun comes forth upon earth. Palely the dawn Leaves me facing timidly Old gardens sunken: And in the gardens is water. Sombre wreck-autumnal leaves; Shadowy roofs In the blue mist, And a willow-branch that is broken.
Page 133 - ... trail's border, Given to squalor, rags and disorder. I nap and amble and yawn and look, Write fool-thoughts in my grubby book, Recite to the children, explore at my ease, Work when I work, beg when I please, Give crank-drawings, that make folks stare To the half-grown boys in the sunset glare, And get me a place to sleep in the hay At the end of a live-and-let-live day.