#AmericanWriters
[and scarcely worth the trouble, a… The same to me are somber days and… Though Joyous dawns the rosy morn… Because my dearest love is gone aw… Within my heart is melancholy nigh…
Oh, when I flung my heart away, The year was at its fall. I saw my dear, the other day, Beside a flowering wall; And this was all I had to say:
Only name the day, and we’ll fly a… In the face of old traditions, To a sheltered spot, by the world… Where we’ll park our inhibitions. Come and gaze in eyes where the lo…
Go I must along my ways Though my heart be ragged, Dripping bitter through the days, Festering, and jagged. Smile I must at every twinge,
And let her loves, when she is dea… Write this above her bones: “No more she lives to give us brea… Who asked her only stones.”
Whose love is given over-well Shall look on Helen’s face in hel… Whilst those whose love is thin an… May view John Knox in Paradise.
Roses, rooted warm in earth, Bud in rhyme, another age; Lilies know a ghostly birth Strewn along a patterned page; Golden lad and chimbley sweep
In the pathway of the sun, In the footsteps of the breeze, Where the world and sky are one, He shall ride the silver seas, He shall cut the glittering wave.
And if, my friend, you’d have it e… There’s naught to hear or tell. But need you try to black my eye In wishing me farewell. Though I admit an edged wit
My own dear love, he is strong and… And he cares not what comes after. His words ring sweet as a chime of… And his eyes are lit with laughter… He is jubilant as a flag unfurled—
When you are gone, there is nor bl… Nor singing sea at night, nor silv… And I can only stare, and shape m… In little words. I cannot conjure loveliness, to dr…
Some men, some men Cannot pass a Book shop. (Lady, make your mind up, and wait… Some men, some men
I was seventy-seven, come August, I shall shortly be losing my bloom… I’ve experienced zephyr and raw gu… And (symbolical) flood and simoom. When you come to this time of abat…
By the time you swear you’re his, Shivering and sighing, And he vows his passion is Infinite, undying— Lady, make a note of this:
When I am old, and comforted, And done with this desire, With Memory to share my bed And Peace to share my fire, I’ll comb my hair in scalloped ban…