#AmericanWriters
Little Sister Rose-Marie, Will thy feet as willing-light Run through Paradise, I wonder, As they run the blue skies under, Willing feet, so airy-light?
Nor stars . . the dark . . and in The dark the grey Ghost glimmer of the olive trees The black straight rows Of Cypresses.
The long night through and still a… Estranged from eyes that very wear… Makes blind to dawn.
THE old Old winds that blew When chaos was, what do They tell the clattered trees that… Should weep?
Three grey women walk with me Fate and Grief and Memory. My fate brought grief; my grief mu… With me through Eternity, Such thy power, memory.
I know Not these my hands And yet I think there was A woman like me once had hands Like these.
Seen on a night in November How frail Above the bulk Of crashing water hangs, Autumn, evanescent, wan,
If it Were lighter touch Than petal of flower resting On grass, oh still too heavy it we… Too heavy!
Oh Lady, let the sad tears fall To speak thy pain, Gently as through the silver dusk The silver rain. Oh, let thy bosom breathe its grie…
The sun is warm today, O Romulus, and on Thine older Palentine the birds Still sing.
Look up . . . From bleakening hills Blows down the light, first breath Of wintry wind . . . look up, and… The snow!
The morning is new and the skies a… The day cometh in with the sun and… Hasten, belov’ed! For see, while you were yet sleepi… The cool and virgin feet of dawn w…
I have no heart for noon-tide and… But I will take me where more ten… Shakes, fold on fold, her dewy dar… And shelters me that I may weep i… And feel no pitying eyes, and hear…
Than spring’s new scents The winter’s earliest wind Blows from the hills the first fai… Of Snow. Why have I
Behold her, Running through the waves Eager to reach the land; The water laps her, Sun and wind are on her,