#AmericanWriters
As cool as the pale wet leaves of lily-of-the-valley She lay beside me in the dawn.
On the loan exhibit of his paintin… You also, our first great, Had tried all ways; Tested and pried and worked in man… And this much gives me heart to pl…
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
«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…
No man hath dared to write this th… And yet I know, how that the soul… At times pass athrough us, And we are melted into them, and a… Save reflexions of their souls.
The girl in the tea shop Is not so beautiful as she was, The August has worn against her. She does not get up the stairs so… Yes, she also will turn middle—age…
Go, dumb-born book, Tell her that sang me once that so… Hadst thou but song As thou hast subjects known, Then were there cause in thee that…
I have tried to write Paradise Do not move Let the wind speak that is paradise. Let the Gods forgive what I
Who, who will be the next man to e… Love interferes with fidelities; The gods have brought shame on the… Each man wants the pomegranate for… Amiable and harmonious people are…
At Rochecoart, Where the hills part in three ways, And three valleys, full of winding… Fork out to south and north,
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,
We shall surely die: Must we needs grow old? Grow old and cold, And we know not why? O, the By-and-By,
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…
To one, on returning certain years… You wore the same quite correct cl… You took no pleasure at all in my… You had the same old air of condes… Mingled with a curious fear
Or ever the knightly years were go… With the old world to the grave, I was a King in Babylon And you were a Christian Slave. I saw, I took, I cast you by,