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John Keats

When by my solitary hearth I sit, And hateful thoughts enwrap my soul in gloom; When no fair dreams before my ‘mind’s eye’ flit, And the bare heath of life presents no bloom; Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed, And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head. — John Keats, from “To Hope” (February,… Continue reading John Keats

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Poetry

Brigit Pegeen Kelly

Blessed is the Field In the late heat the snakeroot and goldenrod run high, White and gold, the steaming flowers, green and gold, The acid-bitten leaves….It is good to say first An invocation. Though the words do not always Seem to work. Still, one must try. Bow your head. Cross your arms. Say: Blessed is… Continue reading Brigit Pegeen Kelly

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Anthology · Argentine Culture · Argentine Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Poetry · Postmodernism · Spanish Culture · Spanish Literature

Jorge Luis Borges

There is such loneliness in that gold. The moon of the nights is not the moon Who the first Adam saw. The long centuries Of human vigil have filled her With ancient lament. Look at her. She is your mirror. — Jorge Luis Borges, “The Moon,” Jorge Luis Borges: Selected Poems, edited by Alexander Coleman… Continue reading Jorge Luis Borges

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