#AmericanWriters
It was a gusty night, With the wind booming, and swoopin… Looping round corners, Sliding over the cobble-stones, Whipping and veering,
I pray to be the tool which to you… Long use has shaped and moulded ti… Apt for your need, and, unconsider… You take it for its service. I de… To be forgotten in the woven stran…
How empty seems the town now you a… A wilderness of sad streets, where… Hide nothing to desire; sunshine f… Eery, distorted, as it long had sh… On white, dead faces tombed in hal…
When I looked into your eyes, I saw a garden With peonies, and tinkling pagodas… And round-arched bridges Over still lakes.
Where else in all America are we… As in this hall? White columns polished like glass, A dome and a dome, A balcony and a balcony,
When I have baked white cakes And grated green almonds to spread… When I have picked the green crow… And piled them, cone-pointed, in a… When I have smoothed the seam of…
Forever the impenetrable wall Of self confines my poor rebelliou… I never see the towering white clo… Before a sturdy wind, save through… Barred window of my jail. I live…
I have whetted my brain until it i… So keen that it nicks off the floa… So sharp that the air would turn i… Were it to be twisted in flight. Licking passions have bitten their…
As for a moment he stands, in hard… Poised on the fircrested rock, ove… Gleams in the wavering sunlight, w… So for a moment I stand, my feet… Eagerly scanning the future which…
Happiness, to some, elation; Is, to others, mere stagnation. Days of passive somnolence, At its wildest, indolence. Hours of empty quietness,
Some men there are who find in nat… Their inspiration, hers the sympat… Which spurs them on to any great e… To them the fields and woods are c… And they hold dear communion with…
Before me, On either side of me, I see sand. If I turn the corner of my house, I see sand,
White, glittering sunlight fills t… Spotted and sprigged with shadows.… Of bartering booths spread out the… Of globed and golden fruit, the mo… Smells sweet with ripeness, on the…
On winter nights beside the nurser… We read the fairy tale, while glow… Builded its pictures. There befor… We saw the vaulted hall of traceri… Uprear itself, the distant ceiling…
The neighbour sits in his window a… From my bed I can hear him, And the round notes flutter and ta… And hit against each other, Blurring to unexpected chords.