#AmericanWriters
Man alive, that mournst thy lot, Desiring what thou hast not got, Money, beauty, love, what not; Deeming it blesseder to be A rotted man, than live to see
Ah, could I lay me down in this l… And close my eyes, and let the qui… Blow over me—I am so tired, so ti… Of passing pleasant places! All m… Following Care along the dusty ro…
These wet rocks where the tide has… Barnacled white and weeded brown And slimed beneath to a beautiful… These wet rocks where the tide wen… Will show again when the tide is h…
Once from a big, big building, When I was small, small, The queer folk in the windows Would smile at me and call. And in the hard wee gardens
My heart is what it was before, A house where people come and go; But it is winter with your love, The sashes are beset with snow. I light the lamp and lay the cloth…
Cold wind of autumn, blowing loud At dawn, a fortnight overdue, Jostling the doors, and tearing t… My bedroom to rejoin the cloud, I know—for I can hear the hiss
Detestable race, continue to expun… Breed faster, crowd, encroach, sin… Make speeches, unveil statues, iss… Convert again into explosives the… Convert again into putrescent matt…
When we are old and these rejoicin… Are frosty channels to a muted str… And out of all our burning their r… No feeblest spark to fire us, even… This be our solace: that it was no…
Death, I say, my heart is bowed Unto thine,—O mother! This red gown will make a shroud Good as any other! (I, that would not wait to wear
Mine is a body that should die at… And have for a grave, instead of a… Six feet deep and the length of me… All the water that is under the wa… And terrible fishes to seize my fl…
Let you not say of me when I am o… In pretty worship of my withered h… Forgetting who I am, and how the… Of such a life as mine run red and… Even to the ultimate sifting dust,…
How shall I know, unless I go To Cairo and Cathay, Whether or not this blessed spot Is blest in every way? Now it may be, the flower for me
Not with libations, but with shout… We drenched the altars of Love’s… Shaking to earth green fruits, imp… The launching of the colored moths… Love’s proper myrtle and his mothe…
People that build their houses inl… People that buy a plot of ground Shaped like a house, and build a h… Far from the sea-board, far from t… Of water sucking the hollow ledges…
Let us abandon then our gardens an… And sit in the sitting-room Shall the larkspur blossom or the… Sour to the fruitful seed Is the cold earth under this cloud…
