#Americans #Women
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…
Were you to cross the world, my de… To work or love or fight, I could be calm and wistful here, And close my eyes at night. It were a sweet and gallant pain
If wild my breast and sore my prid… I bask in dreams of suicide; If cool my heart and high my head, I think, ‘How lucky are the dead!…
Unseemly are the open eyes That watch the midnight sheep, That look upon the secret skies Nor close, abashed, in sleep; That see the dawn drag in, unbidde…
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…
Let another cross his way– She’s the one will do the weeping! Little need I fear he’ll stray Since I have his heart in keeping… Let another hail him dear–
Because your eyes are slant and sl… Because your hair is sweet to touc… My heart is high again; but oh, I doubt if this will get me much.
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…
Some men break your heart in two, Some men fawn and flatter, Some men never look at you; And that cleans up the matter.
Oh, let it be a night of lyric rai… And singing breezes, when my bell… I have so loved the rain that I w… Last in my ears its friendly, dim… I shall lie cool and quiet, who ha…
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…
They say He was a serious child, And quiet in His ways; They say the gentlest lady smiled To hear the neighbors’ praise. The coffers of her heart would clo…
Say my love is easy had, Say I’m bitten raw with pride, Say I am too often sad– Still behold me at your side. Say I’m neither brave nor young,
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
God’s acre was her garden-spot, sh… She sat there often, of the Summe… Little and slim and sweet, among t… Her hair a fable in the leveled ra… She turned the fading wreath, the…