Search
Search results
Displaying 441 - 450
John Keats: Translated from Ronsard
To J. H. Reynolds, Esq.Translated from Ronsard Nature withheld Cassandra in the skies For more adornment a full thousand years; She took their cream of Beauty’s fairest dyes, And shap’d…Al Oerter Biography
discus throwerDied: October 1, 2007 (Fort Myers Beach, Florida) Best Known as: gold medalist in four consecutive Olympic Games Former Olympic discus thrower…Christina Rossetti: Song ("When I am dead")
SongWhen I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou…Charles Hanson Towne: Of One Self-Slain
Of One Self-SlainCharles Hanson TowneWhen he went blundering back to God, His songs half written, his work half done, Who knows what paths his bruised feet trod, What hills of peace or pain…Poems by Emily Dickinson: The Book of Martyrs
by EmilyDickinsonDawnThe Mystery of PainThe Book of Martyrs The Book of Martyrs Read, sweet, how others strove, Till we are stouter; What they renounced, Till we are less afraid; How many…Poems by Emily Dickinson: XX ("I taste a liquor never brewed")
by EmilyDickinsonThe Mystery of PainA BookXX I taste a liquor never brewed, From tankards scooped in pearl; Not all the vats upon the Rhine Yield such an alcohol! Inebriate of air am I,…Poems by Emily Dickinson: LIII
by EmilyDickinsonThirstCharlotte Brontí«'s GraveLIII A clock stopped — not the mantel's; Geneva's farthest skill Can't put the puppet bowing That just now dangled still. An awe came…Poems by Emily Dickinson: XLVIII ("Unto my books")
by EmilyDickinsonXLVIIXLIXXLVIII Unto my books so good to turn Far ends of tired days; It half endears the abstinence, And pain is missed in praise. As flavors cheer retarded guests With…Poems by Emily Dickinson: LII ("To learn the transport")
by EmilyDickinsonLIReturningLII To learn the transport by the pain, As blind men learn the sun; To die of thirst, suspecting That brooks in meadows run; To stay the homesick, homesick…Poems by Emily Dickinson: The Test
by EmilyDickinsonTriumphantEscapeThe Test The Test I can wade grief, Whole pools of it, — I 'm used to that. But the least push of joy Breaks up my feet, And I tip — drunken. Let no pebble…Trending
Here are the facts and trivia that people are buzzing about.
