#AmericanWriters
In my heart the old love Struggled with the new, It was ghostly waking All night through. Dear things, kind things
When I am dying, let me know That I loved the blowing snow Although it stung like whips; That I loved all lovely things And I tried to take their stings
When Love was born I think he lay Right warm on Venus’ breast, And whiles he smiled and whiles wo… And whiles would take his rest. But always, folded out of sight,
Oh Loves there are that enter in, And Loves there are that wait, And Loves that sit a-weeping Whose joy will come too late. For some there be that ope their d…
Child, child, love while you can The voice and the eyes and the sou… Never fear though it break your he… Out of the wound new joy will star… Only love proudly and gladly and w…
BOWED as an elm under the weight… So earth is bowed, under her weigh… Molten sea, richness of leaves and… Bronze of sea-grasses. Clefts in the cliff shelter the pu…
I wish for such a lot of things That never will come true ' And yet I want them all so much I think they might, don’t you? I want a little kitty-cat
Oh if I were the velvet rose Upon the red rose vine, I’d climb to touch his window And make his casement fine. And if I were the little bird
The summer dawn came over-soon, The earth was like hot iron at noo… In Nazareth; There fell no rain to ease the hea… And dusk drew on with tired feet
I am wild, I will sing to the tre… I will sing to the stars in the sk… I love, I am loved, he is mine, Now at last I can die! I am sandaled with wind and with f…
Lo, I am happy, for my eyes have… Joy glowing here before me, face t… His wings were arched above me for… I kissed his lips, no bitter came… The air is vibrant where his feet…
My window-pane is starred with fro… The world is bitter cold to-night, The moon is cruel, and the wind Is like a two-edged sword to smite… God pity all the homeless ones,
I heard a cry in the night, A thousand miles it came, Sharp as a flash of light, My name, my name! It was your voice I heard,
I. Off Gilbatrar BEYOND the sleepy hills of Spai… The sun goes down in yellow mist, The sky is fresh with dewy stars Above a sea of amethyst.
When beauty grows too great to bea… How shall I ease me of its ache, For beauty more than bitterness Makes the heart break. Now while I watch the dreaming se…