#AmericanWriters
It is, and is not, I am sane enou… Since you have come this place has… This fabrication built of autumn r… Then there’s a goldish colour, dif… And one gropes in these things as…
This lady in the white bath-robe w… peignoir, Is, for the time being, the mistre… And the delicate white feet of her… Are not more delicate than she is,
Go, my songs, seek your praise fro… and from the intolerant, Move among the lovers of perfectio… Seek ever to stand in the hard So… And take you wounds from it gladly…
For the seven lakes, and by no man… Rain; empty river; a voyage, Fire from frozen cloud, heavy rain… Under the cabin roof was one lante… The reeds are heavy; bent;
A square, squat room (a cellar on… Drab to the soul, drab to the very… Plasters astray in unnatural-looki… Scissors and lint and apothecary’s… Here, on a bench a skeleton would…
When I behold how black, immortal… Drips from my deathless pen —ah, w… Why should we stop at all for what… There is enough in what I chance… It is enough that we once came tog…
O woe, woe, People are born and die, We also shall be dead pretty soon Therefore let us act as if we were dead already.
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…
I join these words for four people… Some others may overhear them, O world, I am sorry for you, You do not know these four people.
Even in my dreams you have denied… And sent me only your handmaids.
For three years, out of key with h… He strove to resuscitate the dead… Of poetry; to maintain “the sublim… In the old scene.Wrong from the s… No, hardly, but seeing he had been…
The skies are strown with stars, The streets are fresh with dew A thin moon drifts to westward, The night is hushed and cheerful. My thought is quick with you.
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.
To me at my fifth-floor window The chimney-pots in rows Are sets of pipes pandean For every wind that blows; And the smoke that whirls and eddi…
How have I laboured? How have I not laboured To bring her soul to birth, To give these elements a name and… She is beautiful as the sunlight,…