byEmilyDickinson"Hope"isthethingwithfeathers–
Thatperchesinthesoul–
Andsingsthetunewithoutthewords–
Andneverstops–atall–Andsweetest–intheGale–isheard–
Andsoremustbethestorm–
ThatcouldabashthelittleBird
Thatkeptsomanywarm–I'vehearditinthechillestland–
AndonthestrangestSea–
Yet,never,inExtremity,
Itaskedacrumb–ofMe.I'mNobody!Whoareyou?(...[
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byHartCraneOftenbeneaththewave,widefromthisledge
Thediceofdrownedmen'sboneshesawbequeath
Anembassy.Theirnumbersashewatched,
Beatonthedustyshoreandwereobscured.Andwreckspassedwithoutsoundofbells,
Thecalyxofdeath'sbountygivingback
Ascatteredchapter,lividhieroglyph,
Theportentwoundincorridorsofshells.Theninthecircuitcalmofonevastcoil,
Itslashingscharmedandmalicereconciled,...[
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byGeoffreyChaucerfromTheGeneralPrologueWhanthatAprillwithhisshowressoote
thedroughteofMarchhathpercedtotheroote,
Andbathedeveryveineinswichlicour,
Ofwhichvertuengendredistheflowr;
WhanZephyruseekwithhissweetebreeth
Inspiredhathineveryholtandheeth
Thetendrecroppes,andtheyongesonne
HathintheRamhishalvecoursyronne,
Andsmalefowlesmakenmelodye
Thatsleepenaltheni...[
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byJuliadeBurgosAy,ay,ay,thatamkinky-hairedandpureblack
kinksinmyhair,Kafirinmylips;
andmyflatnoseMozambiques.Blackofpuretint,Icryandlaugh
thevibrationofbeingablackstatue;
achunkofnight,inwhichmywhite
teetharelightning;
andtobeablackvine
whichentwinesintheblack
andcurvestheblacknest
inwhichtheravenlies.
BlackchunkofblackinwhichIsculptmyself,
ay,ay,ay...[
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byRobertBrowningThat'smylastduchesspaintedonthewall,
Lookingasifshewerealive.Icall
Thatpieceawonder,now:FràPandolf'shands
Workedbusilyaday,andthereshestands.
Will'tpleaseyousitandlookather?Isaid
"FràPandolf"bydesign,forneverread
Strangerslikeyouthatpicturedcountenance,
Thedepthandpassionofitsearnestglance,
Buttomyselftheyturned(sincenoneputsby
T...[
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byGwendolynBrooksTHEPOOLPLAYERS.
SEVENATTHEGOLDENSHOVEL.Werealcool.We
Leftschool.WeLurklate.We
Strikestraight.WeSingsin.We
Thingin.WeJazzJune.We
Diesoon.
[
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byEavanBolandLikeoillamps,weputthemouttheback—ofourhouses,ofourminds.Wehadlights
betterthan,newerthanandthenatimecame,thistimeandnow
weneedthem.Theirdread,makeshiftexample:theywouldhavethrivedonournecessities.
Whattheysurvivedwecouldnotevenlive.
Bytheirlightsnowitistimeto
imaginehowtheystoodthere,whattheystoodwith,
thattheirpossessionsmaybecomeourpower:
Cardboard.Iron....[
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byElizabethBishopAlthoughitisacoldevening,
downbyoneofthefishhouses
anoldmansitsnetting,
hisnet,inthegloamingalmostinvisible,
adarkpurple-brown,
andhisshuttlewornandpolished.
Theairsmellssostrongofcodfish
itmakesone'snoserunandone'seyeswater.
Thefivefishhouseshavesteeplypeakedroofs
andnarrow,cleatedgangplanksslantup
tostoreroomsinthegables
forthewhe...[
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byW.H.AudenAboutsufferingtheywereneverwrong,
TheOldMasters:howwelltheyunderstood
Itshumanposition;howittakesplace
Whilesomeoneelseiseatingoropeningawindoworjustwalkingdullyalong;
Howwhentheagedarereverently,passionatelywaiting
Forthemiraculousbirth,therealwaysmustbe
Childrenwhodidnotspeciallywantittohappen,skating
Onapondattheedgeofthewood:
Theyneverforgot
...[
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byJohnAshberyIsthatwhereithappens?
OnlyyesterdaywhenIcameback,Ihadthis
diaphanousdisaffectionforthisroom,forspaces,
forthewholeskyandwhateverliesbeyond.
Ifelttheeggplant,thentherhubarb.
Nothingseemsstrongenoughfor
thislifetomanage,thatseesbeyond
intoparticlesformingsomekindofentity—
sowegetdressedkindly,crazyatthemoment.
Alifeofafterwordsbegins.Weneverlive...[
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