#AmericanWriters
She that begs a little boon (Heel and toe! Heel and toe!) Little gets– and nothing, soon. (No, no, no! No, no, no!) She that calls for costly things
They hurried here, as soon as you… Their faces damp with haste and sy… And pressed my hand in theirs, and… And clicked their tongues, and wat… Gently they told me of that Other…
Always I knew that it could not l… (Gathering clouds, and the snowfla… Now it is part of the golden past (Darkening skies, and the night-wi… It is but cowardice to pretend.
Although I work, and seldom cease… At Dumas pere and Dumas fils, Alas, I cannot make me care For Dumas fils and Dumas pere.
Who was there had seen us Wouldn’t bid him run? Heavy lay between us All our sires had done. There he was, a-springing
“So surely is she mine,” you say,… Your quick and steady mind to hard… To bills and bonds and talk of wha… And whistle up the stair, of eveni… And do you see a dream behind my e…
Back of my back, they talk of me, Gabble and honk and hiss; Let them batten, and let them be– Me, I can sing them this: “Better to shiver beneath the star…
When I consider, pro and con, What things my love is built upon— A curly mouth; a sinewed wrist; A questioning brow; a pretty twist Of words as old and tried as sin;
Some men, some men Cannot pass a Book shop. (Lady, make your mind up, and wait… Some men, some men
In April, in April, My one love came along, And I ran the slope of my high hi… To follow a thread of song. His eyes were hard as porphyry
Now this must be the sweetest plac… From here to heaven’s end; The field is white with flowering… The birches leap and bend, The hills, beneath the roving sun,
Then let them point my every tear, And let them mock and moan; Another week, another year, And I’ll be with my own Who slumber now by night and day
There’s little to have but the thi… There’s little to bear but the thi… There’s nothing to carry and naugh… And glory to Heaven, I paid the s… There’s little to do but I did be…
So let me have the rouge again, And comb my hair the curly way. The poor young men, the dear young… They’ll all be here by noon today. And I shall wear the blue, I thin…
He will love you presently If you be the way you be. Send your heart a-skittering. He will stoop, and lift the thing. Be your dreams as thread, to tease
