#AmericanWriters
Still as On windless nights The moon-cast shadows are, So still will be my heart when I Am dead.
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
Force and bluster? Mighty threate… Scorn I lightly, - Not for these. Tell me when shall great Orion Catch the flying Pleuades?
Was it love breathed on us as on t… Dawn breathes for a short space an… Or loved we never at all who but m… With too dim vision the guarded my… Were we unfaithful or were we unwi…
Well and If day on day Follows and weary year On year . . . and ever days and ye… Well?
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…
I have minded me Of the noon-day brightness, And the cricket’s drowsy Singing in the sunshine. . I have minded me
Wouldst thou find my ashes? Look In the pages of my book; And as these thy hand doth turn, Know here is my funeral urn.
The poet pursues his beautiful the… The preacher his golden beatitude; And I run after a vanishing dream… The glittering, will-o’-the-wispis… Of the properly scholarly attitude…
And the centurion who stood by sai… Truly this was a son of God. Not long ago but everywhere I go There is a hill and a black windy… Portent of hill, sky, day’s eclips…
In the cold I will rise, I will b… In waters of ice; myself Will shiver, and shrive myself, Alone in the dawn, and anoint Forehead and feet and hands;
Behold her, Running through the waves Eager to reach the land; The water laps her, Sun and wind are on her,
Heard ye the maidens Went through the meadows, Early, O, early, While yet the dew was Wet on the grass?
Art thou Not kin to him Who loved Mark’s wife and both Died for it? O, thou harper in Green woods?
Seen on a night in November How frail Above the bulk Of crashing water hangs, Autumn, evanescent, wan,