#AmericanWriters
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
Scarlet the poppies Blue the corn-flowers, Golden the wheat. Gold for the Eternal: Blue for Our Lady:
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,
Reap, reap the grain and gather The sweet grapes from the vine; Our Lord’s mother is weeping, She hath nor bread nor wine; She is weeping. The Queen of Hea…
(1) The rose new-opening saith, And the dew of the morning saith, (Fallen leaves and vanished dew) Remember death.
Peter stands by the gate, And Michael by the throne. ‘Peter, I would pass the gate And come before the throne.’ ‘Whose spirit prayed never at the…
Seen on a night in November How frail Above the bulk Of crashing water hangs, Autumn, evanescent, wan,
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?
With night’s Dim veil and blue I will cover my eyes, I will bind close my eyes that are So weary.
You nor I nor nobody knows Where our daily-taken breath Vanisheth and vanisheth: Where our lost breath’s flying goe… You nor I nor nobody knows.
Pain ebbs, And like cool balm, An opiate weariness Settles on eye-lids, on relaxed Pale wrists.
Not thou, White rose, but thy Ensanguined sister is The dear companion of my heart’s Shed blood.
Oh me, Was there a time When Paradise knew Eve In this sweet guise, so placid and
But me They cannot touch, Old age and death. .the strange And ignominious end of old Dead folk!
Every day, Every day, Tell the hours By their shadows, By their shadows.