#AmericanWriters
March has come to the bridge head, Peach boughs and apricot boughs ha… gates, At morning there are flowers to cu… And evening drives them on the eas…
Erinna is a model parent, Her children have never discovered… Lalage is also a model parent, Her offspring are fat and happy.
Trees and the menace of night; Then a long, lonely, leaden mere Backed by a desolate fell, As by a spectral battlement; and t… Low-brooding, interpenetrating all…
Go, my songs, seek your praise fro… and from the intolerant, Move among the lovers of perfectio… Seek ever to stand in the hard So… And take you wounds from it gladly…
Towards the Noel that morte saiso… (Christ make the shepherds’ homage… Then when the grey wolves everycho… Drink of the winds their chill sma… And lap o’ the snows food’s guered…
“Thank you, whatever comes” And t… And, as the ray of sun on hanging… Fades when the wind hath lifted th… Went swiftly from me. Nay, whatev… One hour was sunlit and the most h…
Come my cantilations, Let us dump our hatreds into one b… Hot sun, clear water, fresh wind, Let me be free of pavements, Let me be free of the printers.
Your songs? Oh! The little mothers Will sing them in the twilight, And when the night Shrinketh the kiss of the dawn
The black panther treads at my sid… And above my fingers There float the petal-like flames. The milk-white girls Unbend from the holly-trees,
The narrow streets cut into the wi… Dark oxen, white horses, drag on the seven coaches with out… The coaches are perfumed wood, The jewelled chair is held up at t…
O generation of the thoroughly smu… and the thoroughly uncomfortable, I have seen fishermen picknicking… I have seen them with untidy famil… I have seen their smiles full of t…
ROSE WHITE, YELLOW, SILV… The swirl of light follows me thro… The smoke of incense Mounts from the four horns of my b… The water-jet of gold light bears…
‘Tis not a game that plays at ma… Provençe knew; ’Tis not a game of barter, lands a… Provençe knew. We who are wise beyond your dream…
Phyllidula and the Spoils of Gouv… Where, Lady, are the days When you could go out in a hired h… Without footmen and equipments? And dine in a soggy, cheap restaur…
Under a stagnant sky, Gloom out of gloom uncoiling into… The River, jaded and forlorn, Welters and wanders wearily—wretch… Yet in and out among the ribs