#AmericanWriters
I said,—for Love was laggard, O,… “I’ll hear his step and know his s… bed; But I’ll never leave my pillow, t… As would let him in—and take him i…
Mine is a body that should die at… And have for a grave, instead of a… Six feet deep and the length of me… All the water that is under the wa… And terrible fishes to seize my fl…
“Heaven bless the babe!” they said… “What queer books she must have re… (Love, by whom I was beguiled, Grant I may not bear a child.) “Little does she guess to-day
Man alive, that mournst thy lot, Desiring what thou hast not got, Money, beauty, love, what not; Deeming it blesseder to be A rotted man, than live to see
If I should learn, in some quite… That you were gone, not to return… Read from the back-page of a paper… Held by a neighbor in a subway tra… How at the corner of this avenue
Still must the poet as of old, In barren attic bleak and cold, Starve, freeze, and fashion verses… Such things as flowers and song an… Still as of old his being give
Oh, my belovèd, have you thought… How in the years to come unscrupul… More cruel than Death, will tear… And make you old, and leave me in… How you and I, who scale together…
No matter what I say, All that I really love Is the rain that flattens on the b… And the eel-grass in the cove; The jingle-shells that lie and ble…
I do but ask that you be always fa… That I forever may continue kind; Knowing me what I am, you should… To lapse from beauty ever, nor see… My alterable mood with lesser cord…
Not with libations, but with shout… We drenched the altars of Love’s… Shaking to earth green fruits, imp… The launching of the colored moths… Love’s proper myrtle and his mothe…
I, being born a woman and distress… By all the needs and notions of my… Am urged by your propinquity to fi… Your person fair, and feel a certa… To bear your body’s weight upon my…
Was it for this I uttered prayers… And sobbed and cursed and kicked t… That now, domestic as a plate, I should retire at half-past eight…
Into the golden vessel of great so… Let us pour all our passion; breas… Let other lovers lie, in love and… Not we,—articulate, so, but with t… Of all the world: the churning blo…
I know I am but summer to your he… And not the full four seasons of t… And you must welcome from another… Such noble moods as are not mine,… No gracious weight of golden fruit…
Let us abandon then our gardens an… And sit in the sitting-room Shall the larkspur blossom or the… Sour to the fruitful seed Is the cold earth under this cloud…