#AmericanWriters
There will come soft rain and the… And swallows circling with their s… And frogs in the pools singing at… And wild plum trees in tremulous w… Robins will wear their feathery fi…
I turned the key and opened wide t… To enter my deserted room again, Where thro’ the long hot months th… Was it not lonely when across the… No step was heard, no sudden song…
After a year I came again to the… The tireless lights and the reverb… The angry thunder of trains that b… The hunted, hurrying people were s… But oh, another man beside me and…
He said: “In the winter dusk When the pavements were gleaming w… I walked thru a dingy street Hurried, harassed,
God let me listen to your voice, And look upon you for a space ' And then he took your voice away, And dropped a veil before your fac… God let me look within your eyes,
It is enough for me by day To walk the same bright earth with… Enough that over us by night The same great roof of stars is di… I have no care to bind the wind
SINCE there is no escape, since… My body will be utterly destroyed, This hand I love as I have loved… This body I tended, wept with and… Since there is no escape even for…
I cannot die, who drank delight From the cup of the crescent moon, And hungrily as men eat bread, Loved the scented nights of June. The rest may die—but is there not
The moon is a curving flower of go… The sky is still and blue; The moon was made for the sky to h… And I for you; The moon is a flower without a ste…
When I have ceased to break my wi… Against the faultiness of things, And learned that compromises wait Behind each hardly opened gate, When I have looked Life in the ey…
In my heart the old love Struggled with the new; It was ghostly waking All night thru. Dear things, kind things,
When I talk with other men I always think of you— Your words are keener than their w… And they are gentler, too. When I look at other men,
Oh chimes set high on the sunny to… Ring on, ring on unendingly, Make all the hours a single hour, For when the dusk begins to flower… The man I love will come to me! .…
My soul is a dark ploughed field In the cold rain; My soul is a broken field Ploughed by pain. Where grass and bending flowers
Come, when the pale moon like a pe… Floats in the pearly dusk of sprin… Come with outstretched arms to tak… Come with lips pursed up to cling. Come, for life is a frail moth fly…