| To— John Keats | Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs Be echoed swiftly through that ivory shell, Thine ear, and find thy gentle heart; so well Would passio... | Rate it (0.00 / 0 votes) |
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Quiz
Are you a poetry master?
»"It's neither red nor sweet. It doesn't melt or turn over, break or harden, so it can't feel pain."
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A. Rita Dove
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B. Billy Collins
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C. Marianne Moore
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D. Anne Sexton