#AmericanWriters
Now if ever it is time to cleanse… to lead Emathian horses afield, And to name over the census of my… If I have not the faculty, ‘The b… ‘In the things of similar magnitud…
I do not choose to dream; there co… Some strange old lust for deeds. As to the nerveless hand of some o… The sword—hilt or the war—worn won… Brings momentary life and long—fle…
What have I done for you, England, my England? What is there I would not do, England, my own? With your glorious eyes austere,
The ways of Death are soothing an… And all the words of Death are gr… From camp and church, the fireside… She beckons forth– and strife and… A summer night descending cool and…
While the west is paling Starshine is begun. While the dusk is failing Glimmers up the sun. So, till darkness cover
O strange face there in the glass! O ribald company, O saintly host, O sorrow-swept my fool, What answer? O ye myriad That strive? and play and pass,
Some may have blamed us that we ce… Of things we spoke of in our verse… Saying: a lovely voice is such as… Saying: that lady’s eyes were sad… Wherein the world’s whole joy is b…
The small dogs look at the big dog… They observe unwieldy dimensions And curious imperfections of odor. Here is the formal male group: The young men look upon their seni…
FROM PROPERTIUS, ELEG… Here let thy clemency, Persephone… Do thou, Pluto, bring here no gre… So many thousand beauties are gone… Ye might let one remain above with…
When the Taihaitian princess Heard that he had decided, She rushed out into the sunlight a… cocoanut palm tree, But he returned to this island
By the North Gate, the wind blows… Lonely from the beginning of time… Trees fall, the grass goes yellow… I climb the towers and towers to watch out the barbarous land:
I join these words for four people… Some others may overhear them, O world, I am sorry for you, You do not know these four people.
Come, my songs, let us speak of pe… We shall get ourselves rather disl… Ah yes, my songs, let us resurrect The very excellent term Rusticus. Let us apply it in all its opprobr…
At Rochecoart, Where the hills part in three ways, And three valleys, full of winding… Fork out to south and north,
Young men riding in the street In the bright new season Spur without reason Causing their steeds to leap. And at the pace they keep