#AmericanWriters
Rest me with Chinese colours, For I think the glass is evil. The wind moves above the wheat– With a silver crashing, A thin war of metal.
At Rochecoart, Where the hills part in three ways, And three valleys, full of winding… Fork out to south and north,
Les yeux d’une morte M’ont salué, Enchassés dans un visage stupide Dont tous les autres traits étaien… Ils m’ont salué
‘Tis not a game that plays at ma… Provençe knew; ’Tis not a game of barter, lands a… Provençe knew. We who are wise beyond your dream…
And then went down to the ship, Set keel to breakers, forth on the… We set up mast and sail on that sw… Bore sheep aboard her, and our bod… Heavy with weeping, and winds from…
DOLE THE BELL! BELL THE… Whom can these duds attack? Soapy Sime? Slipp’ry Mac? Naught but a shirt is there Such as the fascists wear,
His brow spreads large and placid,… Is deep and bright, with steady lo… Soft lines of tranquil thought his… His face at once benign and proud… If envy scout, if ignorance deny,
FROM THE ITALIAN OF LE… Such wast thou, Who art now But buried dust and rusted skeleto… Above the bones and mire,
Cydonian Spring with her attendan… Maelids and water-girls, Stepping beneath a boisterous wind… Throughout this sylvan place Spreads the bright tips,
When earth’s last thesis is copied From the theses that went before, When idea from fact has departed And bare—boned factlets shall bore… When all joy shall have fled from…
‘Tis but a vague, invarious deli… As gold that rains about some buri… As the fine flakes, When tourists frolicking Stamp on his roof or in the glazin…
When the wind storms by with a sho… Rejoice in the tramp and the roar… Then, then, it comes home to the h… Is the passion that burns the bloo… Till you pity the dead down there…
We flash across the level. We thunder thro’ the bridges. We bicker down the cuttings. We sway along the ridges. A rush of streaming hedges,
Who, who will be the next man to e… Love interferes with fidelities; The gods have brought shame on the… Each man wants the pomegranate for… Amiable and harmonious people are…
The girl in the tea shop Is not so beautiful as she was, The August has worn against her. She does not get up the stairs so… Yes, she also will turn middle—age…