#Americans #XXCentury
The lateral vibrations caress me, They leap and caress me, They work pathetically in my favou… They seek my financial good. She of the spear stands present.
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.
Even in my dreams you have denied… You have sent me only your handmai…
No man hath dared to write this th… And yet I know, how that the soul… At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and a… Save reflexions of their souls.
Blue mountains to the north of the… White river winding about them; Here we must make separation And go out through a thousand mile… Mind like a floating wide cloud,
Go, my songs, seek your praise fro… and from the intolerant, Move among the lovers of perfectio… Seek ever to stand in the hard So… And take you wounds from it gladly…
For a moment she rested against me Like a swallow half blown to the w… And they talk of Swinburne’s wome… And the shepherdess meeting with… And the harlots of Baudelaire.
Lord God of heaven that with merc… Th’alternate prayer wheel of the n… Eternal hath to thee, and in whose… Our days as rain drops in the sea… As bright white drops upon a leade…
It is, and is not, I am sane enou… Since you have come this place has… This fabrication built of autumn r… Then there’s a goldish colour, dif… And one gropes in these things as…
The eyes of this dead lady speak t… For here was love, was not to be d… And here desire, not to be kissed… The eyes of this dead lady speak t…
We flash across the level. We thunder thro’ the bridges. We bicker down the cuttings. We sway along the ridges. A rush of streaming hedges,
I am a grave poetic hen That lays poetic eggs And to enhance my temperament A little quiet begs. We make the yolk philosophy,
She passed and left no quiver in t… Moving among the trees, and clingi… in the air she severed, Fanning the grass she walked on th… Grey olive leaves beneath a rain-c…
.Light, light of my eyes, at an ex… And intoxicated, and no servant was leading me, And a minute crowd of small boys c… I do not know what boys,
A Hymn to the Dope Goddess of the murmuring courts, Nicotine, my Nicotine, Houri of the mystic sports, trailing—robed in gabardine,