#Americans #Women
O mia Luna! Porta mi fortuna! (You must say it nine times, curts… In rose-pale, fading blue of twili… See, the new moon’s thin crescent… Nine times I’ll curtsey murmuring…
Not thou, White rose, but thy Ensanguined sister is The dear companion of my heart’s Shed blood.
But me They cannot touch, Old age and death. .the strange And ignominious end of old Dead folk!
‘Let me be young,’ the Latmian sh… ‘And let me have on night-time hil… Whom she of Cynthus saw, Heaven’s… And gave his youth and dreams her… What news comrade upon the mountai…
Sun and wind and beat of sea, Great lands stretching endlessly’… Where be bonds to bind the free? All the world was made for me!
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
Ere the horne’d owl hoot Once and twice and thrice there sh… Go among the blind brown worms News of thy great burial; When the pomp is passed away,
A-sway, On red rose, A golden butterfly. . And on my heart a butterfly Night-wing’d.
I know Not these my hands And yet I think there was A woman like me once had hands Like these.
Keep thou Thy tearless watch All night but when blue-dawn Breathes on the silver moon, then… Then weep!
The cold With steely clutch Grips all the land. .alack The little people in the hills Will die!
Lo, All the Way, Look you, I said, the clouds will… Grow clear, the road Be easier for my travelling the fi… So sodden and dead,
Dost thou Not feel them slip, How cold! how cold! the moon’s Thin wavering finger-tips, along Thy throat?
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;
The shadowy boy of night Crosses the dusking land; He sows his poppy-seeds With steady, gentle hand. The shadowy boy of night