#AmericanWriters
I have minded me Of the noon-day brightness, And the cricket’s drowsy Singing in the sunshine. . I have minded me
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…
And the centurion who stood by sai… Truly this was a son of God. Not long ago but everywhere I go There is a hill and a black windy… Portent of hill, sky, day’s eclips…
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.
These be three silent things: The falling snow . . . the hour Before the dawn . . . the mouth of… Just dead.
Listen . . . With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break f… And fall.
Than spring’s new scents The winter’s earliest wind Blows from the hills the first fai… Of Snow. Why have I
Never the nightingale, Oh, my dear, Never again the lark Thou wilt hear; Though dusk and the morning still
Is it as plainly in our living sho… By slant and twist, which way the…
In your Curled petals what ghosts Of blue headlands and seas, What perfumed immortal breath sigh… Of Greece.
‘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…
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.
Every day, Every day, Tell the hours By their shadows, By their shadows.
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…
Reap, reap the grain and gather The sweet grapes from the vine; Our Lord’s mother is weeping, She hath nor bread nor wine; She is weeping. The Queen of Hea…