#AmericanWriters
The lamplit page is turned, the dr… The music changes tone, you wake,… Deep worlds you lived before,—deep… Of leaf on falling leaf, music on… Rain and sorrow and wind and dust…
Here on the pale beach, in the dar… With the full moon just to rise; They sit alone, and look over the… Or into each other’s eyes. . . She pokes her parasol into the sle…
‘Draw three cards, and I will tel… Draw three cards, and lay them dow… Rest your palms upon them, stare a… And think of time . . . My father… My mother was a gypsy out of Egyp…
The sun goes down in a cold pale f… The trees grow dark: the shadows l… And lights wink out through the wi… A clamor of frosty sirens mourns a… Pale slate-grey clouds whirl up fr…
Beloved, let us once more praise t… Let us discover some new alphabet, For this, the often praised; and b… The rain, the chickweed, and the b… The green-white privet flower, the…
He thinks her little feet should p… Where dandelions star thickly gras… Her hands should lift in sunlit ai… Sea-wind should tangle up her hair… Green leaves, he says, have never…
Music I heard with you was more t… And bread I broke with you was mo… Now that I am without you, all is… All that was once so beautiful is… Your hands once touched this table…
On the day when my uncle and I dr… Rain rattled on the roof of the ca… And talkng constrainedly of this a… We refrained from looking at the c… When we reached the cemetery
The parrot, screeching, flew out i… Circled three times above the uptu… With a great whir of brilliant out… And then returned to stagger on he… She bowed and smiled, eliciting ap…
Dry leaves, soldier, dry leaves, d… voices of leaves on the wind that… destruction, impassioned prayer, impassioned hy… of the gladly doomed to die. Strid…
No, I shall not say why it is tha… Why do you ask me, save for vanity… Surely you would not have me, like… Say ‘yes,—your hair curls darkly b… Your mouth has a humorous, tremulo…
Snow falls. The sky is grey, and… With purple lights in the canyoned… The fiery sign on the dark tower w… The trodden grass in the park is c… The streets grow silent beneath ou…
It is night time, and cold, and sn… And no wind grieves the walls. In the small world of light around… A swarm of snowflakes falls and fa… The street grows silent. The last…