#AmericanWriters
And you as well must die, belovèd… And all your beauty stand you in n… This flawless, vital hand, this pe… This body of flame and steel, befo… Of Death, or under his autumnal f…
I think I will learn some beautif… Purposes, work hard at that. I think I will learn the Latin na… America but wherever they sing. (Shun meditation, though; invite t…
(Nicola Sacco—Bartolomeo Vanzett… Executed August 23, 1927 As men have loved their lovers in… And sung their wit, their virtue a… So have we loved sweet Justice to…
And what are you that, wanting you… I should be kept awake As many nights as there are days With weeping for your sake? And what are you that, missing you…
Pity me not because the light of d… At close of day no longer walks th… Pity me not for beauties passed aw… From field and thicket as the the… Pity me not the waning of the moon…
My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friend… It gives a lovely light.
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…
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…
Let them bury your big eyes In the secret earth securely, Your thin fingers, and your fair, Soft, indefinite-colored hair,— All of these in some way, surely,
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…
There will be rose and rhododendro… When you are dead and under ground… Still will be heard from white syr… Heavy with bees, a sunny sound; Still will the tamaracks be rainin…
“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
We talk of taxes, and I call you… Well, such you are,—but well enoug… How thick about us root, how rankl… Those subtle weeds no man has need… That flourish through neglect, and…
I know what my heart is like Since your love died: It is like a hollow ledge Holding a little pool Left there by the tide,
Time cannot break the bird’s wing… Bird and wing together Go down, one feather. No thing that ever flew, Not the lark, not you,