#AmericanWriters
Down all the lanterned Bagdad of… He steals, with golden justice for… Within his palace you shall know t… A blood-smeared headsman hides beh…
When dusk is drowned in drowsy dre… And slow the hues of sunset die; When firefly and moth go by, And in still streams the new moon… Another moon and sky:
White art thou, O Lilith! as the… Glitters and clingingly silvers an… Of the beautiful breasts of the ny… That crystal and pearl by clusters… Forests of tenebrous palm.
The dim verbena drugs the dusk With lemon-heavy odours where The heliotropes breathe drowsy mus… Into the jasmine-dreamy air; The moss-rose bursts its dewy husk
One well might deem, among these m… Such were the Forests of the Holy… Broceliand and Dean; where, cloth… The Knights of Arthur rode, and a… Of legend laired. And, where no s…
There is a music of immaculate lov… That beats within the virgin veins… And trillium blossoms, like the st… To fairies’ wands; and, strung on… White-hearts and mandrake blooms t…
To it the forest tells The mystery that haunts its heart… Its form in cogitation deep, that… The shadow of each myth that dwell… In nature be it Nymph or Fay or…
There are moments when, as mission… God reveals to us strange visions; When, within their separate statio… We may see the Centuries, Like revolving constellations
What is it now that I shall seek Where woods dip downward, in the h… A mossy nook, a ferny creek, And May among the daffodils. Or in the valley’s vistaed glow,
A Broken rainbow on the skies of… Touching the dripping roses and lo… And in wet clouds its scattered gl… So in the sorrow of her soul the g… Of one great love, of iridescent r…
The bitter-sweet and red-haw in he… And in her hair pale berries of th… She haunts the coves and every Ca… The Indian, Autumn, wandered from… Beside the sea, upon a rock, she s…
COME in, old Ghost of all that u… You find me old, And love grown cold, And fortune fled to younger compan… Departed, as the glory of the day,
Here is a tale to tell to rich rel… There was a toad, a Calibanic mon… In whose squat head ambition had e… Most bloated jewel, dear to highes… He was received, though mottled as…
They who take courage from their o… Are victors too, no matter how muc…
The memory of what we’ve lost Is with us more than what we’ve wo… Perhaps because we count the cost By what we could, yet have not don… ‘Twixt act and purpose fate hath d…