#Americans
When I was a boy, and saw bright… In many lengths along a wall I was dissappointed to find That I could not play music upon… I ran my hand lightly across them
Let me not shrink at sight of deat… Nor waste in grief an idle breath.… You whom I loved are one with cla… The brightness in your eyes is gon… I shall not meet your face to-day;
These hills are sandy. Trees are… Caw dismally in skies of an arid b… Complain in dusty pine-trees. Yel… Lights on the long brown slopes a… Dew as heavy as rain; the rabbit t…
What shall we talk of? Li Po?… You narrow your long dark eyes to… You smile a little. . . .Outside,… I walk alone in a forest of ghostl… Your pale hands rest palm downward…
I shall grow calm in a little whil… But now, youth yearns in me to lau… Cruel as cinematograph I show life up to you... and smile… I shall be calm in a little space,…
‘Draw three cards, and I will tel… Draw three cards, and lay them dow… Rest your palms upon them, stare a… And think of time . . . My father… My mother was a gypsy out of Egyp…
It is a shabby backdrop of bright… one of the small interstices of ti… the worn out north star northward,… to westward spread in ruined light… the other stars disposed,—or indis…
More towers must yet be built—more… Great rocks hoisted in air; And he must seek his bread in high… With gulls about him, and clouds j… And so he did not mention his drea…
The door is shut. She leaves the… And down the grey-walled stairs co… Towards the dazzling street. Her withered hand clings tightly t… The long stairs rise and fall bene…
Harsh, harsh, the maram grass on t… seen by the cricket’s eye agains… anchor-frost and seaward, the ligh… the bellbuoy-beating moon, the tid… ringing above deep channels and ol…
Senlin sat before us and we heard… He smoked his pipe before us and w… Was he small, with reddish hair, Did he light his pipe with a medit… And a twinkling flame reflected in…
‘Number four—the girl who died on… The girl with golden hair—’ The purpling body lies on the poli… We open the throat, and lay the th… One, who held the ether-cone, reme…
From time to time, lifting his eye… The soft blue starlight through th… The moon above black trees, and cl… And turns to write . . . The clo… It is so long, indeed, since I ha…
Beloved, let us once more praise t… Let us discover some new alphabet, For this, the often praised; and b… The rain, the chickweed, and the b… The green-white privet flower, the…
Here on the pale beach, in the dar… With the full moon just to rise; They sit alone, and look over the… Or into each other’s eyes. . . She pokes her parasol into the sle…