#AmericanWriters
As I went, as I went Over the mountains, I heard, I heard, Through cloud-wreath and mist, A hound that was baying -
Grey gaolers are my griefs That will not let me free; The bitterness of tears Is warder unto me. I may not leap or run;
Thou beautiful and ivory gates That shut my tears away from me - Even, at last, such refuge yield That great, safe doors of Ebony.
Every day, Every day, Tell the hours By their shadows, By their shadows.
Lo, how they weave– the imperturba… Those threads that are my destiny: Steadily at the eternal task they’… Industrious . . . indifferent . .… Weave, Fates! And what your spins…
Oh Lady, let the sad tears fall To speak thy pain, Gently as through the silver dusk The silver rain. Oh, let thy bosom breathe its grie…
A-sway, On red rose, A golden butterfly. . And on my heart a butterfly Night-wing’d.
Madonna, Madonnina Sat by the grey road-side, Saint Joseph her beside, And Our Lord at her breast; Oh they were fain to rest,
A laggard in the rear of time’s sw… And one who loiters on an aimless… Through lands he knows not; lured… In secret paths where silence hold… And rust ascending wings. Roads m…
No guile? Nay, but so strangely He moves among us. . Not this Man but Barabbas! Release to us Barabbas!
Avis, the fair, at dawn Rose lightly from her bed, Herself arrayed, Avis, the fait, the maid, In vestiment of lawn;
Listen . . . With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break f… And fall.
(Girl’s Song) In Babylon, in Nineveh, And long ago, and far away, The lilies and the lotus blew That are my sweet of youth to-day.
Little Sister Rose-Marie, Will thy feet as willing-light Run through Paradise, I wonder, As they run the blue skies under, Willing feet, so airy-light?
Is it as plainly in our living sho… By slant and twist, which way the…