#AmericanWriters
O mia Luna! Porta mi fortuna! (You must say it nine times, curts… In rose-pale, fading blue of twili… See, the new moon’s thin crescent… Nine times I’ll curtsey murmuring…
Sea-foam And coral! Oh, I’ll Climb the great pasture rocks And dream me mermaid in the sun’s Gold flood.
With swift Great sweep of her Magnificent arm my pain Clanged back the doors that shut m… From life.
A-sway, On red rose, A golden butterfly. . And on my heart a butterfly Night-wing’d.
JUST now, Out of the strange Still dusk . . . as strange, as st… A white moth flew . . . Why am I… So cold?
Every day, Every day, Tell the hours By their shadows, By their shadows.
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…
More dim than wining moon Thy face, mort faint Than is the falling wind Thy voice, yet do Thine eyes most strangely glow,
A flickering light near spent Her pale hand bore. Have you seen Angelique? Will she know the place Dead feet must find,
Than spring’s new scents The winter’s earliest wind Blows from the hills the first fai… Of Snow. Why have I
Burdock, Blue aconite, And thistle and thorn. .of these Singing I wreathe my pretty wreat… O’death.
‘WHY do You thus devise Evil against her?’ ‘For that She is beautiful, delicate; Therefore.’
Avis, the fair, at dawn Rose lightly from her bed, Herself arrayed, Avis, the fait, the maid, In vestiment of lawn;
Listen . . . With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break f… And fall.
Pain ebbs, And like cool balm, An opiate weariness Settles on eye-lids, on relaxed Pale wrists.