|Over the roofs of the world,|
Walt Whitman sounds his barbaric one.
|Open-mouthed sign of boredom or sleepiness|
|Rosy-fingered morning phenomenon|
frequently invoked by Homer
|A mild adjectival expletive|
|A challenge . . . like peach eating for Prufrock|
|Whittier's tan-cheeked boy has this kind of feet.|
|Nickname for Shakespeare|
|Maya Angelou knows|
why this caged creature sings.
|Blest be the ties that do this,|
so saith John Fawcett's hymn
|North, South, East and West,|
Each is the one Amy Lowell likes best.
|Omar Khayyám wants thou|
with a loaf of bread and a jug of this.
|Decrease, like William Cullen Bryant's pallid moon|
|A worker's regular pay|
|Dylan Thomas suggests you this, this|
against the dying of the light.
|Assign a value, possibly on a scale of 1 to 10|
|William Ernest Henley is captain of his soul|
and master of his this.
|Great renown: Lord Byron's Childe Harold|
says it is the thirst of youth.
|If you can't do this to your Wild Strawberry,|
don't blame Shel Silverstein.
|Robert Herrick advises rosebud gathering,|
since this Old One is still a-flying.
|Coleridge's ancient Mariner tells a long one.|
(Or maybe it's just frost in his beard.)
|Though we trod her, still Maya Angelou does this.|
|Gertrude Stein repeatedly asserts|
the reflexive property of this flower.
|Into the valley of Death, the six hundred did this.|
|A rich mineral deposit,|
like you might find in the land of Eldorado
|In the spring a young man's fancy|
lightly turns to thoughts of this.
|A slithy creature that Lewis Carroll says|
you might find gimbling in a wabe
|Rent asunder, ripped|
|Before he was interrupted by a raven,|
Poe was pondering over volumes of forgotten this.
|Title for Byron or Tennyson|
|It's worth one thousandth of a picture,|
|Robert Frost encountered two roads|
diverging in a yellow one.
|What one eats (eg, antelope for a Tyger)|
|An iamb, trochee, dactyl, or anapest|
(or where you might wear a shoe)
|Chimney residue that Eliot's yellow smoke|
lets fall upon its back
|Emerson told of one heard round the world.|
|A place to buy things|
like coffee or old curiosities
|What Death kindly did for Emily Dickinson|