#AmericanWriters
As dew leaves the cobweb lightly Threaded with stars, Scattering jewels on the fence And the pasture bars; As dawn leaves the dry grass brigh…
The princess has her lovers, A score of knights has she, And each can sing a madrigal, And praise her gracefully. But Love that is so bitter
Love in my heart was a fresh tide… Where the starlike sea gulls soar; The sun was keen and the foam was… High on the rocky shore. But now in the dusk the tide is tu…
The moon is like a scimitar, A little silver scimitar, A-drifting down the sky. And near beside it is a star, A timid twinkling golden star,
Love entered in my heart one day, A sad, unwelcome guest; But when he begged that he might s… I let him wait and rest. He broke my sleep with sorrowing,
It will not change now After so many years; Life has not broken it With parting or tears; Death will not alter it,
I have come the selfsame path To the selfsame door, Years have left the roses there Burning as before While I watch them in the wind
One by one, like leaves from a tre… All my faiths have forsaken me; But the stars above my head Burn in white and delicate red, And beneath my feet the earth
I sought among the drifting leaves… The golden leaves that once were g… To see if Love were hiding there And peeping out between. For thro’ the silver showers of M…
Oh Litis, little slave, why will… These long Egyptian noons bend do… Bowed like the yarrow with a yello… There, lift your eyes no man has e… Dark eyes that wait like faggots f…
IF I were a bee and you were a ro… Would you let me in when the gray… Would you hold your petals wide ap… Would you let me in to find your h… If you were a rose?
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…
A FOG drifts in, the heavy laden Cold white ghost of the sea’ One by one the hills go out, The road and the pepper-tree. I watch the fog float in at the wi…
THE sun was gone, and the moon wa… Over the blue Connecticut hills; The west was rosy, the east was fl… And over my head the swallows rush… This way and that, with changeful…
“She can’t be unhappy,” you said, “The smiles are like stars in her… And her laughter is thistledown Around her low replies.” “Is she unhappy?” you said—