#AmericanWriters
The sea is full of wandering foam, The sky of driving cloud; My restless thoughts among them ro… The night is dark and loud. Where are the hours that came to m…
Wal, Thanksgivin’ do be comin’ ro… With the price of turkeys on the b… And coal, by gum! Thet were just… Is surely gettin’ cheaper. The winds will soon begin to howl,
What is to come we know not. But… That what has been was good—was go… Better to hide, and best of all to… We are the masters of the days tha… We have lived, we have loved, we h…
Leucis, who intended a Grand Pass… Ends with a willingness-to-oblige.
I had over prepared the event, that much was ominous. With middle—ageing care I had laid out just the right book… I had almost turned down the pages…
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.
(1907) 1 am homesick after mine own kind, Oh I know that there are folk abo… But I am homesick after mine own… ‘These sell our pictures’! Oh wel…
In the cream gilded cabin of his s… Mr. Nixon advised me kindly, to a… Dangers of delay. ‘Consider Carefully the reviewer. ’I was as poor as you are;
The Spirit of Wine Sang in my glass, and I listened With love to his odorous music, His flushed and magnificent song. —'I am health, I am heart, I am l…
The petals fall in the fountain, the orange-coloured rose-leaves, Their ochre clings to the stone.
In vain have I striven, to teach my heart to bow; In vain have I said to him ‘There be many singers greater tha… But his answer cometh, as winds an…
She passed and left no quiver in t… Moving among the trees, and clingi… in the air she severed, Fanning the grass she walked on th… Grey olive leaves beneath a rain-c…
(Abbreviated from the conversation… Over the flat slope of St Eloi A wide wall of sandbags. Night, In the silence desultory men
Listen, my children, and you shall… The midnight activities of Whats-… Scarcely a general now known to fa… Can tell you of that famous day an… When feeble Mr. Asquith, getting…
The surges gushed and sounded, The blue was the blue of June, And low above the brightening east Floated a shred of moon. The woods were black and solemn,