#AmericanWriters
If it so befalls that the midnight… In mist no moonlight breaks, The leagues of the years my spirit… And my self myself forsakes. And I live in a land of stars and…
I belt the morn with ribboned mist… With baldricked blue I gird the n… And dusk with purple, crimson-kiss… White-buckled with the hunter’s mo… These follow me, the season says:
It is the time when, by the forest… The touch-me-nots hang fairy folly… When ferns and flowers fill the li… Of rocks with colour, rich as orie… And in my heart I hear a voice th…
When the poppies, with their shiel… Sentinel Forest and the harvest fields, In the bell Of a blossom, fair to see,
Clumped in the shadow of the beech… In whose brown top the crows are l… Where, every side, great briers re… And cling like hands, the beechdro… The mossy cirque with neutral tint…
Inspiration. All who have toiled for Art, who’… Sat equal priests at her high Pen… Only the chrism and sacrament of f… Anointing all, inspired not all th…
He stands above all worldly schism… And, gazing over life’s abysm Beholds within the starry range Of heaven laws of death and change… That, through his soul’s prophetic…
He rode adown the autumn wood, A man dark-eyed and brown; A mountain girl before him stood Clad in a homespun gown. ‘To ride this road is death for yo…
NIGHT, they say, is no man’s fri… And at night he met his end In the woods of Trebizend. Hate crouched near him as he strod… Through the blackness of the road,
Hey, little boy, little boy, come… Hey, little boy, little boy, Andy… Hey, little boy, little boy, can i… Your mouth is crumbed with candy?’ ‘What’s that to you? what’s that t…
Old phantoms haunt it of the long… Old ghosts of old-time lovers and… Within the quiet sunlight there, m… I see them walking where those lil… The hardy phlox sways to some garm…
There’s something now that no one… That never seems to mind me Where is it that my shadow goes That often walks behind me? Where does it go when I come home…
Sodden and shivering, in mud and r… Half in the light that serves but… The blackness of an alley and the… Homeward of wretchedness in tatter… A boy stands crouched; big drops o…
In the shadow of the beeches, Where the fragile wildflowers bloo… Where the pensive silence pleaches Green a roof of cool perfume, Have you felt an awe imperious
At the moon’s down-going let it be On the quarry hill with its one gn… The red-rock road of the underbrus… Where the woman came through the s… The sumac high and the elder thick…