#AmericanWriters
More dim than wining moon Thy face, mort faint Than is the falling wind Thy voice, yet do Thine eyes most strangely glow,
‘WHY do You thus devise Evil against her?’ ‘For that She is beautiful, delicate; Therefore.’
Every day, Every day, Tell the hours By their shadows, By their shadows.
The long night through and still a… Estranged from eyes that very wear… Makes blind to dawn.
Madonna, Madonnina Sat by the grey road-side, Saint Joseph her beside, And Our Lord at her breast; Oh they were fain to rest,
Meet thou the event And terrible happening of Thine end: for thou art come Upon the remote, cold place Of ultimate dissolution and
Scarlet the poppies Blue the corn-flowers, Golden the wheat. Gold for the Eternal: Blue for Our Lady:
To Walter Savage Landor Ah, Walter, where you lived I rue These days come all too late for m… What matter if her eyes were blue Whose rival is Persephone?
Little my lacking fortunes show For this to eat and that to wear; Yet laughing, Soul, and gaily go! An obol pays the Stygian fare. London, 1910
My songs to sell, sweet maid! I pray you buy. Here’s one will win a lady’s tears… Here’s one will make her gay, Here’s one will charm your true lo…
Well and If day on day Follows and weary year On year . . . and ever days and ye… Well?
I make my shroud, but no one knows… So shimmering fine it is and fair, With stitches set in even rows, I make my shroud, but no one knows… In door-way where the lilac blows,
Burdock, Blue aconite, And thistle and thorn. .of these Singing I wreathe my pretty wreat… O’death.
Listen . . . With faint dry sound, Like steps of passing ghosts, The leaves, frost-crisp’d, break f… And fall.
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…