#Americans #Women
What words Are left thee then Who hast squandered on thy Forgetfulness eternity’s I Love?
If it Were lighter touch Than petal of flower resting On grass, oh still too heavy it we… Too heavy!
White doves of Cytherea, by your… Across the blue Heaven’s bluest h… And by your certain homing to Lov… Still to be true and ever true -…
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,
Listen . . . With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break f… And fall.
Every day, Every day, Tell the hours By their shadows, By their shadows.
The morning is new and the skies a… The day cometh in with the sun and… Hasten, belov’ed! For see, while you were yet sleepi… The cool and virgin feet of dawn w…
Look up . . . From bleakening hills Blows down the light, first breath Of wintry wind . . . look up, and… The snow!
(1) The rose new-opening saith, And the dew of the morning saith, (Fallen leaves and vanished dew) Remember death.
How can you lie so still? All day… And never a blade of all the green… To show where restlessly you toss… And fling a desperate arm or draw… Stiffened and aching from their lo…
For Aubrey Beardsley’s picture Pierrot is dying: Tiptoe in, Finger touched to lip, Harlequin,
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?
In your Curled petals what ghosts Of blue headlands and seas, What perfumed immortal breath sigh… Of Greece.
No guile? Nay, but so strangely He moves among us. . Not this Man but Barabbas! Release to us Barabbas!
The cold With steely clutch Grips all the land. .alack The little people in the hills Will die!