#AmericanWriters
For I was a gaunt, grave councill… Being in all things wise, and very… But I have put aside this folly a… That old age weareth for a cloak. I was quite strong—at least they s…
The tree has entered my hands, The sap has ascended my arms, The tree has grown in my breast— Downward, The branches grow out of me, like…
Tree, Old Tree of the Triple Cro… And the rope of the Black Electio… ’Tis the faith of the Fool that a… Can never achieve perfection: So 'It’s O, for the time of the n…
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…
Palace in smoky light, Troy but a heap of smouldering bou… ANAXIFORMINGES! Aurunculei… Hear me. Cadmus of Golden Prow… The silver mirrors catch the brigh…
I ha’ seen them 'mid the clouds on… Lo! they pause not for love nor fo… Yet their eyes are as the eyes of… When the white hart breaks his cov… And the white wind breaks the morn…
‘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…
All the while they were talking th… Her eyes explored me. And when I rose to go Her fingers were like the tissue Of a Japanese paper napkin.
My City, my beloved, my white! Ah… Listen! Listen to me, and I will… Delicately upon the reed, attend m… Now do I know that I am mad, For here are a million people surl…
The sands are alive with sunshine, The bathers lounge and throng, And out in the bay a bugle Is lilting a gallant song. The clouds go racing eastward,
The ways of Death are soothing an… And all the words of Death are gr… From camp and church, the fireside… She beckons forth– and strife and… A summer night descending cool and…
Lady of rich allure, Queen of the spring’s embrace, Your arms are long like boughs of… Mid laugh—broken streams, spirit o… Breath of the poppy flower,
Take, dear, my little sheaf of son… For, old or new, All that is good in them belongs Only to you; And, singing as when all was young…
Thick is the darkness - Sunward, O, sunward! Rough is the highway - Onward, still onward! Dawn harbours surely
Phyllidula is scrawny but amorous, Thus have the gods awarded her, That in pleasure she receives more… If she does not count this blessed Let her change her religion.