#AmericanWriters
“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…
O My songs, Why do you look so eagerly and so… people’s faces, Will you find your lost dead among…
While my hair was still cut straig… I played about the front gate, pul… You came by on bamboo stilts, play… You walked about my seat, playing… And we went on living in the villa…
Go, dumb-born book, Tell her that sang me once that so… Hadst thou but song As thou hast subjects known, Then were there cause in thee that…
The sky-like limpid eyes, The circular infant’s face, The stiffness from spats to collar Never relaxing into grace; The heavy memories of Horeb, Sina…
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…
When I but think upon the great d… And turn my mind upon that splendi… Lo! I do curse my strength And blame the sun his gladness; For that the one is dead
The small dogs look at the big dog… They observe unwieldy dimensions And curious imperfections of odor. Here is the formal male group: The young men look upon their seni…
When you wake in your crib, You, an inch of experience - Vaulted about With the wonder of darkness; Wailing and striving
No man hath dared to write this th… And yet I know, how that the soul… At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and a… Save reflexions of their souls.
Ha! sir, I have seen you sniffing… about among my flowers. And what, pray, do you know about horticulture, you capriped? ‘Come, Auster, come Apeliota,
All night, and as the wind lieth a… The cypress trees, he lay, Nor held me save as air that brush… Close, and as the petals of flower… Waver and seem not drawn to earth,…
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.
The skies are strown with stars, The streets are fresh with dew A thin moon drifts to westward, The night is hushed and cheerful. My thought is quick with you.
The little Millwins attend the Ru… The mauve and greenish souls of th… Were seen lying along the upper se… Like so many unused boas. The turbulent and undisciplined ho…