#AmericanWriters
Should they whisper false of you. Never trouble to deny; Should the words they say be true, Weep and storm and swear they lie.
I cannot rest, I cannot rest In straight and shiny wood, My woven hands upon my breast— The dead are all so good! The earth is cool across their eye…
Daily I listen to wonder and woe, Nightly I hearken to knave or to… Telling me stories of lava and sno… Delicate fables of ribbon and lace… Tales of the quarry, the kill, the…
Death’s the lover that I’d be tak… Wild and fickle and fierce is he. Small’s his care if my heart be br… Gay young Death would have none o… Hear them clack of my haste to gre…
Secrets, you said, would hold us t… You’d have me know of you your lea… And so the intimate places of your… Kneeling, you bared to me, as in c… Softly you told of loves that went…
There’s a place I know where the… And wayward vines go roaming, Where the lilacs nod, and a marble… Is pale, in scented gloaming. And at sunset there comes a lady f…
We shall have our little day. Take my hand and travel still Round and round the little way, Up and down the little hill. It is good to love again;
You know the bloom, unearthly whit… That none has seen by morning ligh… The tender moon, alone, may bare Its beauty to the secret air. Who’d venture past its dark retrea…
The friends I made have slipped a… And who’s the one that cares? A trifling lot and best forgot– And that’s my tale, and theirs. Then if my friendships break and b…
Carlyle combined the lit’ry life With throwing teacups at his wife, Remarking, rather testily, “Oh, stop your dodging, Mrs. C.!”
Her mind lives in a quiet room, A narrow room, and tall, With pretty lamps to quench the gl… And mottoes on the wall. There all the things are waxen nea…
Dante Gabriel Rossetti Buried all of his libretti, Thought the matter over - then Went and dug them up again.
I’m sick of embarking in dories Upon an emotional sea. I’m wearied of playing Dolores (A role never written for me). I’ll never again like a cub lick
If I don’t drive around the park, I’m pretty sure to make my mark. If I’m in bed each night by ten, I may get back my looks again, If I abstain from fun and such,
[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…