#Americans #XXCentury
Zeus lies in Ceres’ bosom Taishan is attended of loves under Cythera, before sunrise And he said: “Hay aquí mucho cato… catolithismo
Thy soul Grown delicate with satieties, Atthis. O Atthis, I long for thy lips.
The wan sun westers, faint and slo… The eastern distance glimmers gray… An eerie haze comes creeping low Across the little, lonely bay; And from the sky-line far away
Phyllidula and the Spoils of Gouv… Where, Lady, are the days When you could go out in a hired h… Without footmen and equipments? And dine in a soggy, cheap restaur…
See, they return; ah, see the tent… Movements, and the slow feet, The trouble in the pace and the un… Wavering! See, they return, one by one,
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…
The gods are dead? Perhaps they a… Living at least in Lempriere unde… The wise, the fair, the awful, the… Are one and all. I like to think,… In some still land of lilacs and t…
And the days are not full enough And the nights are not full enough And life slips by like a field mou… Not shaking the grass
‘Tis Evanoe’s, A house not made with hands, But out somewhere beyond the world… Her gold is spread, above, around,… Strange ways and walls are fashion…
Chiming a dream by the way With ocean’s rapture and roar, I met a maiden to-day Walking alone on the shore: Walking in maiden wise,
There’s a regret So grinding, so immitigably sad, Remorse thereby feels tolerant, ev… Do you not know it yet? For deeds undone
Kung walked by the dynastic temple and into the cedar grove, and then out by the lower river, And with him Khieu Tchi
The tree has entered my hands, The sap has ascended my arms, The tree has grown in my breast— Downward, The branches grow out of me, like…
Where forlorn sunsets flare and fa… On desolate sea and lonely sand, Out of the silence and the shade What is the voice of strange comma… Calling you still, as friend calls…
Good God! They say you are risqué… O canzonetti! We who went out into the four A.… Composing our albas, We who shook off our dew with the…
