#AmericanWriters
The long night through and still a… Estranged from eyes that very wear… Makes blind to dawn.
The sun is warm today, O Romulus, and on Thine older Palentine the birds Still sing.
Is it as plainly in our living sho… By slant and twist, which way the…
Was it love breathed on us as on t… Dawn breathes for a short space an… Or loved we never at all who but m… With too dim vision the guarded my… Were we unfaithful or were we unwi…
Thou hast Drawn laughter from A well of secret tears And thence so elvish it rings, –mo… And sweet.
Oh me, Was there a time When Paradise knew Eve In this sweet guise, so placid and
Seen on a night in November How frail Above the bulk Of crashing water hangs, Autumn, evanescent, wan,
Avis, the fair, at dawn Rose lightly from her bed, Herself arrayed, Avis, the fait, the maid, In vestiment of lawn;
If it Were lighter touch Than petal of flower resting On grass, oh still too heavy it we… Too heavy!
Not spring’s Thou art, but hers, Most cool, most virginal, Winter’s, with thy faint breath, t… Rose-tinged.
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…
White doves of Cytherea, by your… Across the blue Heaven’s bluest h… And by your certain homing to Lov… Still to be true and ever true -…
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…
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,
But me They cannot touch, Old age and death. .the strange And ignominious end of old Dead folk!