#AmericanWriters
Staring corpselike at the ceiling, See his harsh, unrazored features, Ghastly brown against the pillow, And his throat-so strangely bandag… Lack of work and lack of victuals,
Let us build here an exquisite fri… The flame, the autumn, and the gre… Fought out their strife here, ’tis… Where these have been, meet ’tis,…
This boat is of shato-wood, and it… magnolia, Musicians with jewelled flutes and… Fill full the sides in rows, and o… Is rich for a thousand cups.
DIFFERENCE OF OPINION W… LYGDAMUS Tell me the truths which you hear… Lygdamus, And may the bought yoke of a mistr…
Jove, be merciful to that unfortun… Or an ornamental death will be hel… The time is come, the air heaves i… The dry earth pants against the ca… But this heat is not the root of t…
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…
Sing we for love and idleness, Naught else is worth the having. Though I have been in many a land… There is naught else in living. And I would rather have my sweet,
O Dieu, purifiez nos cceurs! Purifiez nos coeurs! Yea the lines hast thou laid unto… in pleasant places, And the beauty of this thy Venice
You were praised, my books, because I had just come from the c… I was twenty years behind the time… so you found an audience ready. I do not disown you,
My City, my beloved, my white! Ah… Listen! Listen to me, and I will… Delicately upon the reed, attend m… Now do I know that I am mad, For here are a million people surl…
Chant for the Transmutation of Me… Sail of Claustra, Aelis, Azalais… As you move among the bright trees… As your voices, under the larches… Make a clear sound,
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…
Earth’s winter cometh And I being part of all And sith the spirit of all moveth… I must needs bear earth’s winter Drawn cold and grey with hours
The West a glimmering lake of lig… A dream of pearly weather, The first of stars is burning whit… The star we watch together. Is April dead? The unresting year
Phyllidula is scrawny but amorous, Thus have the gods awarded her, That in pleasure she receives more… If she does not count this blessed Let her change her religion.
