#AmericanWriters
Keep thou Thy tearless watch All night but when blue-dawn Breathes on the silver moon, then… Then weep!
The clustered Gods, the marching… The mighty-limbed, deep-bosomed T… The shimmering grey-gold London f… I wish that Phidias could see!
Than spring’s new scents The winter’s earliest wind Blows from the hills the first fai… Of Snow. Why have I
These be three silent things: The falling snow . . . the hour Before the dawn . . . the mouth of… Just dead.
THE old Old winds that blew When chaos was, what do They tell the clattered trees that… Should weep?
To Walter Savage Landor Ah, Walter, where you lived I rue These days come all too late for m… What matter if her eyes were blue Whose rival is Persephone?
I know Not these my hands And yet I think there was A woman like me once had hands Like these.
Have yet forgot, sweet birds, How near the heaven’s lie? Drooping, sick-pinion’d, oh Have yet forgot the sky? The air that once I knew
Scarlet the poppies Blue the corn-flowers, Golden the wheat. Gold for the Eternal: Blue for Our Lady:
JUST now, Out of the strange Still dusk . . . as strange, as st… A white moth flew . . . Why am I… So cold?
A flickering light near spent Her pale hand bore. Have you seen Angelique? Will she know the place Dead feet must find,
(1) The rose new-opening saith, And the dew of the morning saith, (Fallen leaves and vanished dew) Remember death.
As I went, as I went Over the mountains, I heard, I heard, Through cloud-wreath and mist, A hound that was baying -
All day, all day I brush My golden strands of hair; All day I wait and wait.. Ah, who is there? Who calls? Who calls? The gold
Fugitive, wistful, Pausing at edge of her going, Autumn, the maiden, turns, Leans to the earth with ineffable Gesture. Ah, more than