#AmericanWriters
It is, and is not, I am sane enou… Since you have come this place has… This fabrication built of autumn r… Then there’s a goldish colour, dif… And one gropes in these things as…
Me happy, night, night full of bri… Oh couch made happy by iny long de… How many words talked out with abu… Struggles when the lights were tak… Now with bared breasts she wrestle…
Her little face is like a walnut s… With wrinkling lines; her soft, wh… Her withered brows in quaint, stra… And all about her clings an old, s… Prim is her gown and quakerlike he…
What thou lovest well remains, the rest is dross What thou lov’st well shall not be… What thou lov’st well is thy true…
I join these words for four people… Some others may overhear them, O world, I am sorry for you, You do not know these four people.
“Lappo I leave behind and Dante t… Lo, I would sail the seas with th… Talk me no love talk, no bought-ch… Mine is the ship and thine the mer… All the blind earth knows not th’e…
Candidia has taken a new lover And three poets are gone into mour… The first has written a long elegy… To ‘Chloris chaste and cold,’ his… The second has written a sonnet
The phoenix are at play on their t… The phoenix are gone, the river H… Flowers and grass Cover over the dark path where lay the dynastic house of th…
You came in out of the night And there were flowers in your han… Now you will come out of a confusi… Out of a turmoil of speech about y… I who have seen you amid the prima…
For three years, out of key with h… He strove to resuscitate the dead… Of poetry; to maintain “the sublim… In the old scene.Wrong from the s… No, hardly, but seeing he had been…
The full sea rolls and thunders In glory and in glee. O, bury me not in the senseless ea… But in the living sea! Ay, bury me where it surges
Thick is the darkness - Sunward, O, sunward! Rough is the highway - Onward, still onward! Dawn harbours surely
What if I know thy speeches word… And if thou knew’st I knew them w… What if I know thy speeches word… And all the time thou sayest them… ‘Lo, one there was who bent her fa…
For a moment she rested against me Like a swallow half blown to the w… And they talk of Swinburne’s wome… And the shepherdess meeting with… And the harlots of Baudelaire.
Or ever the knightly years were go… With the old world to the grave, I was a King in Babylon And you were a Christian Slave. I saw, I took, I cast you by,