#Americans #XXCentury
I see by the morning papers That America’s sturdy sons Have started a investigation Of the making of guns. The morning paper tells me
The gew-gaws of false amber and fa… ‘Like to like nature’: these agglu…
The pomps of butchery, financial p… Told 'em to die in war, and then t… Then cut their saving to the half… When will this system lie down in… The pomps of Fleet St., festering…
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
His brow spreads large and placid,… Is deep and bright, with steady lo… Soft lines of tranquil thought his… His face at once benign and proud… If envy scout, if ignorance deny,
While the west is paling Starshine is begun. While the dusk is failing Glimmers up the sun. So, till darkness cover
An image of Lethe, and the fields Full of faint light but golden, Gray cliffs,
What is to come we know not. But… That what has been was good—was go… Better to hide, and best of all to… We are the masters of the days tha… We have lived, we have loved, we h…
O thou newcomer who seek’st Rome… And find’st in Rome no thing thou… Arches worn old and palaces made c… Rome’s name alone within these wal… Behold how pride and ruin can befa…
FROM CHARLES D’ORLEANS God! that mad’st her well regard h… How she is so fair and bonny; For the great charms that are upon… Ready are all folks to reward her.
Time and the Earth - The old Father and Mother - Their teeming accomplished, Their purpose fulfilled, Close with a smile
The rustling of the silk is discon… Dust drifts over the court-yard, There is no sound of foot-fall, an… Scurry into heaps and lie still, And she the rejoicer of the heart…
“Pan is dead. Great Pan is dead. Ah! bow your heads, ye maidens all… And weave ye him his coronal.” “There is no summer in the leaves, And withered are the sedges;
Me happy, night, night full of bri… Oh couch made happy by iny long de… How many words talked out with abu… Struggles when the lights were tak… Now with bared breasts she wrestle…
May I for my own self song’s trut… Journey’s jargon, how I in harsh… Hardship endured oft. Bitter breast—cares have I abided… Known on my keel many a care’s hol…