#Americans #XXCentury
When I carefully consider the cur… I am compelled to conclude That man is the superior animal. When I consider the curious habit… I confess, my friend, I am puzzle…
In the cream gilded cabin of his s… Mr. Nixon advised me kindly, to a… Dangers of delay. ‘Consider Carefully the reviewer. ’I was as poor as you are;
While my hair was still cut straig… I played about the front gate, pul… You came by on bamboo stilts, play… You walked about my seat, playing… And we went on living in the villa…
A brown, fat babe sitting in the l… And you were glad and laughing With a laughter not of this world. It is good to splash in the water And laughter is the end of all thi…
This man knew out the secret ways… No man could paint such things who… And now she’s gone, who was his C… And you are here, who are ‘The Is… And here’s the thing that lasts th…
Be in me as the eternal moods of the bleak wind, and not As transient things are— gaiety of flowers. Have me in the strong loneliness
While the west is paling Starshine is begun. While the dusk is failing Glimmers up the sun. So, till darkness cover
We are the Choice of the Will: G… That called us into line, set in o… Set us a sword to wield none else… And bade us forth to the sound of… East and west and north, wherever…
Go, my songs, to the lonely and th… Go also to the nerve-racked, go to… Bear to them my contempt for their… Go as a great wave of cool water, Bear my contempt of oppressors.
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:
1 his papier-mâché, which you see,… Saith ’twas the worthiest of edito… Its mind was made up in 'the seven… Nor hath it ever since changed tha… It works to represent that school…
Thy soul Grown delicate with satieties, Atthis. O Atthis, I long for thy lips.
It rests me to be among beautiful… Why should one always lie about su… I repeat: It rests me to converse with beaut… Even though we talk nothing but no…
Aye! I am a poet and upon my tomb Shall maidens scatter rose leaves And men myrtles, ere the night Slays day with her dark sword. ‘Lo! this thing is not mine
Candidia has taken a new lover And three poets are gone into mour… The first has written a long elegy… To ‘Chloris chaste and cold,’ his… The second has written a sonnet
