The New Era in American PoetryH. Holt, 1919 - Počet stran: 364 For contents, see Author Catalog. |
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American poetry Amy Lowell Anthology artist beauty begins beneath Benét blood Chicago Poems color critics dark dead death delicate dream earth echoes Edgar Lee Masters eloquent expression eyes face flowers fresh Frost give H. L. MENCKEN hand heart heaven HENRY HOLT idiom Imagists irony Jesus John Gould Fletcher laugh less light Lindsay Lindsay's lines literary living LOUIS UNTERMEYER loveliness lover Lowell's lyric Macmillan Margaret Widdemer Masters merely Miss Lowell mood moon Mother Mountain Interval never night Oppenheim passion picture poems poet poetic prose rhymed Robert Frost Robinson Sandburg Sara Teasdale seems silence singing sleep song soul sound speech spirit Spoon River Spoon River Anthology stars strange street thee things thou thought tion title-poem trees turn Untermeyer verse vigor voice volume Wheelock Whitman wind woman words write
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Strana 39 - Home is the place where, when you have to go there, They have to take you in." " I should have called it Something you somehow haven't to deserve.
Strana 300 - O wind, rend open the heat, cut apart the heat, rend it to tatters. Fruit cannot drop through this thick air— fruit cannot fall into the heat that presses up and blunts the points of pears and rounds the grapes. Cut the heat— plough through it, turning it on either side of your path.
Strana 10 - echo Whitman in declaring their freedom from the easy charm of antiquity: Come, Muse, migrate from Greece and Ionia. Cross out, please, those immensely overpaid accounts; That matter of Troy and Achilles' wrath, and Eneas' and Odysseus' wanderings. Placard " Removed " and " To Let " on the rocks of your snowy Parnassus . . . For
Strana 300 - Here, in the fewest possible words, is something beyond the description of heat; here is the effect of it. And with what swift strokes the picture is drawn. In those four lines with their imaginative evocation of heat that presses up and blunts the points of pears and rounds of grapes.
Strana 38 - The Oven Bird ": The bird would cease and be as other birds But that he knows in singing not to sing. The question that he frames in all but words Is what to make of a diminished thing. Or
Strana 38 - : Part of a moon was falling down the west, Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills. Its light poured softly in her lap. She saw And spread her apron to it. She put out her hand
Strana 150 - And the softness of my body will be guarded from embrace By each button, hook, and lace. For the man who should loose me is dead, Fighting with the Duke in Flanders, In a pattern called a war. Christ! What are patterns for?
Strana 210 - Be in me as the eternal moods of the bleak wind, and not As transient things are— gaiety of flowers. Have me in the strong loneliness of sunless cliffs And of grey waters. Let the gods speak softly of us In days hereafter, The shadowy flowers of Orcus Remember Thee.
Strana 82 - Pounded on the table, Beat an empty barrel with the handle of a broom, Hard as they were able, Boom, boom, boom,— With a silk umbrella and the handle of a broom, Boomlay, boomlay, boomlay, boom. Then I had religion, then I had a vision. I could not turn from their revel in derision. Then I saw the Congo, creeping through the
Strana 245 - I heard the mournful loon In the marsh beneath the moon. And then, with feathery thunder, the bird of my desire Broke from the cover Flashing silver fire. High up among the stars I saw his pinions spire; The pale clouds gazed aghast As my falcon stoopt upon him, and gript and held him fast.