#AmericanWriters
Dearest, forgive that with my clum… I broke and bruised your rose. I hardly could suppose It were a thing so fragile that my… Could kill it, thus.
But why did I kill him? Why? Why… In the small, gilded room, near th… My ears rack and throb with his cr… And his eyes goggle under his hair… As my fingers sink into the fair
Naughty little speckled trout, Can’t I coax you to come out? Is it such great fun to play In the water every day? Do you pull the Naiads’ hair
Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our h… The end lost in dream, They float past our view,
O You, Who came upon me once Stretched under apple-trees just a… Why did you not strangle me before… Rather than fill me with the wild…
Hold your apron wide That I may pour my gifts into it, So that scarcely shall your two ar… From falling to the ground. I would pour them upon you
How long shall I tarnish the mirr… A spatter of rust on its polished… The seasons reel Like a goaded wheel. Half-numb, half-maddened, my days…
From out the dragging vastness of… Wave-fettered, bound in sinuous, s… He toils toward the rounding beach… One moment, white and dripping, si… Cut like a cameo in lazuli,
In the brown water, Thick and silver-sheened in the su… Liquid and cool in the shade of th… A pike dozed. Lost among the shadows of stems
Always we are following a light, Always the light recedes; with gro… We stretch toward this glory, whil… We journey through are hidden from… Dim and mysterious, folded deep in…
Must all of worth be travailled fo… Life’s brightest stars rise from a… Must years go by in sad uncertaint… Leaving us doubting whose the conq… Are we or Fate the victors? Time…
Goaded and harassed in the factory That tears our life up into bits o… Ticked off upon a clock which neve… Shredding our portion of Eternity… We break away at last, and steal t…
The path runs straight between the… A moonlit path, hemmed in by beds… Where phlox and marigolds dispute… With tall, red dahlias and the bri… 'T is reckless prodigality which t…
I want no horns to rouse me up to-… And trumpets make too clamorous a… To fit my mood, it is so weary whi… I have no wish for doing any thing… A music coaxed from humming string…
A face seen passing in a crowded s… A voice heard singing music, large… And from that moment life is chang… Become of more heroic temper, meet To freely ask and give, a man comp…