#AmericanWriters
Beautiful, tragical faces’ Ye that were whole, and are so sun… And, O ye vile, ye that might hav… That are so sodden and drunken, Who hath forgotten you?
O Dieu, purifiez nos cceurs! Purifiez nos coeurs! Yea the lines hast thou laid unto… in pleasant places, And the beauty of this thy Venice
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.
WITH strawberries we filled a tr… And then we drove away, away Along the links beside the sea, Where wave and wind were light and… And August felt as fresh as May.
The gew-gaws of false amber and fa… ‘Like to like nature’: these agglu…
Thy soul Grown delicate with satieties, Atthis. O Atthis, I long for thy lips.
I am a grave poetic hen That lays poetic eggs And to enhance my temperament A little quiet begs. We make the yolk philosophy,
I do not choose to dream; there co… Some strange old lust for deeds. As to the nerveless hand of some o… The sword—hilt or the war—worn won… Brings momentary life and long—fle…
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,
This is another of our ancient lov… Pass and be silent, Rullus, for t… Hath lacked a something since this… Hath lacked a something. ’Twas bu…
Lord God of heaven that with merc… Th’alternate prayer wheel of the n… Eternal hath to thee, and in whose… Our days as rain drops in the sea… As bright white drops upon a leade…
The harsh acts of your levity! Many and many. I am hung here, a scare-crow for l… Escape! There is, O Idiot, no es… Flee if you like into Ranaus,
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.
Chiming a dream by the way With ocean’s rapture and roar, I met a maiden to-day Walking alone on the shore: Walking in maiden wise,
The scientists are in terror and the European mind stops Wynham Lewis chose blindness rather than have his mind stop. Night under wind mid garofani,