#AmericanWriters
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…
This thing, that hath a code and n… Hath set acquaintance where might… And nothing now Disturbeth his reflections.
The sky-like limpid eyes, The circular infant’s face, The stiffness from spats to collar Never relaxing into grace; The heavy memories of Horeb, Sina…
As a bathtub lined with white porc… When the hot water gives out or go… So is the slow cooling of our chiv… O my much praised but-not-altogeth…
March has come to the bridge head, Peach boughs and apricot boughs ha… gates, At morning there are flowers to cu… And evening drives them on the eas…
I am a grave poetic hen That lays poetic eggs And to enhance my temperament A little quiet begs. We make the yolk philosophy,
The jewelled steps are already qui… It is so late that the dew soaks m… And I let down the crystal curtai… And watch the moon through the cle…
There is a truce among the gods, Kore is seen in the North Skirting the blue-gray sea In gilded and russet mantle. The corn has again it’s mother and…
The petals fall in the fountain, the orange-coloured rose-leaves, Their ochre clings to the stone.
«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…
Palace in smoky light, Troy but a heap of smouldering bou… ANAXIFORMINGES! Aurunculei… Hear me. Cadmus of Golden Prow… The silver mirrors catch the brigh…
IN o more for us the little sighi… No more the winds at twilight trou… Lo the fair dead! No more do I burn. No more for us the fluttering of w…
These tales of old disguisings, ar… Strange myths of souls that found… Unwonted folk that spake an hostil… Some soul from all the rest who’d… The star—span acres of a former lo…
‘Tis not a game that plays at ma… Provençe knew; ’Tis not a game of barter, lands a… Provençe knew. We who are wise beyond your dream…
Come, let us pity those who are be… Come, my friend, and remember t hat the rich have butlers… And we have friends and no butlers… Come, let us pity the married and…