#AmericanWriters
‘There’s be no roof to shelter you… You’ll have no where to lay your h… And who will get your food for you… Star-dust pays for no man’s bread. So, Jacky, come give me your fidd…
‘WHY do You thus devise Evil against her?’ ‘For that She is beautiful, delicate; Therefore.’
With swift Great sweep of her Magnificent arm my pain Clanged back the doors that shut m… From life.
The poet pursues his beautiful the… The preacher his golden beatitude; And I run after a vanishing dream… The glittering, will-o’-the-wispis… Of the properly scholarly attitude…
I have minded me Of the noon-day brightness, And the cricket’s drowsy Singing in the sunshine. . I have minded me
The cold With steely clutch Grips all the land. .alack The little people in the hills Will die!
Pain ebbs, And like cool balm, An opiate weariness Settles on eye-lids, on relaxed Pale wrists.
He comes from Mass early in the m… The sky’s the very blue Madonna w… The air’s alive with gold! Mark y… The birds sing and the dusted shim… On leaf and fruit?..Per Bacco, wh…
Sun and wind and beat of sea, Great lands stretching endlessly’… Where be bonds to bind the free? All the world was made for me!
I make my shroud, but no one knows… So shimmering fine it is and fair, With stitches set in even rows, I make my shroud, but no one knows… In door-way where the lilac blows,
Burdock, Blue aconite, And thistle and thorn. .of these Singing I wreathe my pretty wreat… O’death.
Keep thou Thy tearless watch All night but when blue-dawn Breathes on the silver moon, then… Then weep!
But me They cannot touch, Old age and death. .the strange And ignominious end of old Dead folk!
Wouldst thou find my ashes? Look In the pages of my book; And as these thy hand doth turn, Know here is my funeral urn.
A flickering light near spent Her pale hand bore. Have you seen Angelique? Will she know the place Dead feet must find,