Category: 19th century
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![“[There Is No Frigate Like] A Book” by Emily Dickinson](https://stanzaandstory.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/cropped-emily-dickinson.jpg?w=1000)
“[There Is No Frigate Like] A Book” by Emily Dickinson
Here’s an excerpt from a #poem by Emily Dickinson, entitled, “[There is no Frigate like] A Book”: “…This Traverse may the poorest take Without oppress of Toll – How frugal is the Chariot That bears the Human Soul – ”
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“If—” by Rudyard Kipling
“If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss…;”
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“Cinq Ans Apres” by Frank Gelette Burgess (1866 – 1961)
Ah, yes, I wrote the “Purple Cow”— I’m Sorry, now, I wrote it; But I can tell you Anyhow I’ll Kill you if you Quote it!
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“I Broke the Spell That Held Me Long” by William Cullen Bryant (1794 – 1878)
“I Broke the Spell That Held Me Long” BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT I broke the spell that held me long, The dear, dear witchery of song. I said, the poet’s idle lore Shall waste my prime of years no more, For Poetry, though heavenly born, Consorts with poverty and scorn. I broke the spell–nor deemed its…
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“A Learned Man Came to Me Once” by Stephen Crane (1871 – 1900)
An Excerpt from a #Poem by #StephenCrane” “…Soon, too soon, were we Where my eyes were useless, And I knew not the ways of my feet.”
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“A Man” by Louis Untermeyer (1885 – 1977)
Excertp from a #Poem by #LouisUntermeyer: “…Then I thought of you, Your gentle soul, Your large and quiet kindness; Ready to caution and console, And, with an almost blindness To what was mean and low…”
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“Fire and Ice” by Robert Frost (1874 – 1963)
#Poetry by #RobertFrost: “…But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate To say that for destruction ice Is also great And would suffice.”
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“My Light with Yours” by Edgar Lee Masters (1868 – 1950)
“My Light with Yours” by EDGAR LEE MASTERS I When the sea has devoured the ships, And the spires and the towers Have gone back to the hills. And all the cities Are one with the plains again. And the beauty of bronze,…
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“The Slave Mother” by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (1825 – 1911)
He is not hers, although she bore For him a mother’s pains; He is not hers, although her blood Is coursing through his veins!
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“Eliza Harris” by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper (1825 – 1911)
So fragile and lovely, so fearfully pale, Like a lily that bends to the breath of the gale, Save the heave of her breast, and the sway of her hair, You’d have thought her a statue of fear and despair.