#AmericanWriters
In which he is remembered in simil… the king’s jester, who died when H… Yorick is dead. Boy Hamlet walks… Beneath the battlements of Elsino… Where are those oddities and caper…
Tolstoi is plowing yet. When the… High in the sky shines a field as… There he toils for the Kingdom of… Ah, he is taller than clouds of th… Only the congress of planets is ov…
On the road to nowhere What wild oats did you sow When you left your father’s house With your cheeks aglow? Eyes so strained and eager
Hungry for music with a desperate… I prowled abroad, I threaded thro… The evening crowd was clamoring an… Vulgar and pitiful—my heart bowed… Till I remembered duller hours ma…
Within the town of Buffalo Are prosy men with leaden eyes. Like ants they worry to and fro, (Important men, in Buffalo.) But only twenty miles away
I am unjust, but I can strive for… My life’s unkind, but I can vote… I, the unloving, say life should b… I, that am blind, cry out against… Man is a curious brute—he pets his…
If you lay for Iago at the stage… You have missed the moral of the p… He will have a midnight supper wit… They will chirp together and be ga… But the things Iago stands for mu…
[Written while a field-worker i… King Arthur’s men have come again… They challenge everywhere The foes of Christ’s Eternal Chu… Her incense crowns the air.
The moon’s a holy owl-queen. She keeps them in a jar Under her arm till evening, Then sallies forth to war. She pours the owls upon us.
I know a seraph who has golden eye… And hair of gold, and body like th… Here in the wind I dream her unbo… Is blowing round me, that desire’s… Has touched her pale keen face, an…
“If I could set the moon upon This table,” said my friend, “Among the standard poets And brouchures without end, And noble prints of old Japan,
“The sun says his prayers,” said t… Or else he would wither and die. “The sun says his prayers,” said t… “For strength to climb up through… He leans on invisible angels,
A BROADSIDE DISTRI… Censers are swinging, Over the town; Censers are swinging, Look overhead!
Written to Miss Alice L. F.… Your fine white hand is Heaven’s… To cure the wide world, stricken s… Bleeding at the breast and head, Tearing at its wounds once more.
To be intoned, all but the two… Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong. Here lies a kitten good, who kept A kitten’s proper place. He stole no pantry eatables,