#AmericanWriters
The lawyer, are you? Well! I ain’t got nothin’ to say… Nothin’! I told the perlice I hadn’t nothi… They know’d real well 'twas me.
Poor foolish monarch, vacillating,… Decaying victim of a race of kings… Swift Destiny shook out her purpl… And caught him in their shadow; no… Could furtive plotting smear anoth…
Leisure, thou goddess of a bygone… When hours were long and days suff… Wide-eyed delights and pleasures u… By shortening moments, when no gau… Of undone duties, modern heritage,
A bullet through his heart at dawn. On the table a letter signed with a woman’s name. A wind that goes howling round the house, and weeping as in shame. Cold November dawn peeping throu...
Glinting golden through the trees, Apples of Hesperides! Through the moon-pierced warp of n… Shoot pale shafts of yellow light, Swaying to the kissing breeze
The tall yellow hollyhocks stand, Still and straight, With their round blossoms spread o… In the quiet sunshine. And still is the old Roman wall,
Dance! Dance! The priest is yellow with sunflowe… He is yellow with corn-meal, He is yellow as the sun.
When I looked into your eyes, I saw a garden With peonies, and tinkling pagodas… And round-arched bridges Over still lakes.
How still it is! Sunshine itself… In quiet shafts of light through t… Which, arching, make a roof above… Changing from sun to shadow as eac… Lingers a moment, charmed by the s…
You came to me bearing bright rose… Red like the wine of your heart; You twisted them into a garland To set me aside from the mart. Red roses to crown me your lover,
My heart is like a cleft pomegrana… Bleeding crimson seeds And dripping them on the ground. My heart gapes because it is ripe… And its seeds are bursting from it…
But why did I kill him? Why? Why… In the small, gilded room, near th… My ears rack and throb with his cr… And his eyes goggle under his hair… As my fingers sink into the fair
This afternoon was the colour of w… The trees glittered with the tumbl… The sidewalks shone like alleys of… And the houses ran along them laug… Under a tree in the park,
I cut myself upon the thought of y… And yet I come back to it again a… A kind of fury makes me want to dr… From the dimness of the present And set you sharply above me in a…
The scent of hyacinths, like a pal… between me and my book; And the South Wind, washing throu… Makes the candles quiver. My nerves sting at a spatter of ra…