#AmericanWriters
«I am thy soul, Nikoptis. I have… These five millennia, and thy dead… Moved not, nor ever answer my desi… And thy light limbs, wherethrough… Burn not with me nor any saffron t…
All night, and as the wind lieth a… The cypress trees, he lay, Nor held me save as air that brush… Close, and as the petals of flower… Waver and seem not drawn to earth,…
I even I, am he who knoweth the r… Through the sky, and the wind ther… I have beheld the Lady of Life, I, even I, who fly with the swall… Green and gray is her raiment,
Come, let us pity those who are be… come, my friend, and remember that the rich have butlers and no… And we have friends and no butlers… Come, let us pity the married and…
I stood still and was a tree amid… Knowing the truth of things unseen… Of Daphne and the laurel bow And that god—feasting couple old that grew elm—oak amid the wold.
The black panther lies under his r… And the fawns come to sniff at his… Evoe, Evoe, Evoe Baccho, O ZAGREUS, Zagreus, Zagreus, The black panther lies under his r…
Mr. Styrax 1 Mr. Hecatomb Styrax, the owner of… A 'blue’ and a climber of mountain… He being at that age a virgin, The term Virgo’ being made male i…
You say that I take a good deal u… That I strut in the robes of assu… In a few years no one will remembe… No one will remember the trivial p… The comic detail will be absent.
The red and green kingfishers flash between the orchids and clov… One bird casts its gleam on anothe… Green vines hang through the high… They weave a whole roof to the mou…
Agathas Four and forty lovers had Agathas… All of whom she refused; And now she turns to me seeking lo… And her hair also is turning.
Shades of Callimachus, Coan ghost… It is in your grove I would walk, I who come first from the clear fo… Bringing the Grecian orgies into… and the dance into Italy.
Thy soul Grown delicate with satieties, Atthis. O Atthis, I long for thy lips.
Why does the horse-faced lady of j… Walk down Longacre reciting Swinb… Why does the small child in the so… Crawl in the very black gutter ben… Why does the really handsome young…
I have tried to write Paradise Do not move Let the wind speak that is paradise. Let the Gods forgive what I
There is a wheel inside my head Of wantonness and wine, An old, cracked fiddle is begging… But the wind with scents of the se… And the sun seems glad to shine.