#AmericanWriters
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…
How will this beauty, when I am f… Sweep back upon me and engulf my m… How will these hours, when we twai… Turned in their sapphire tide, com…
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…
We’ll go no more a-roving by the l… November glooms are barren beside… The summer flowers are faded, the… We’ll go no more a-roving, lest wo… We’ll go no more a-roving by the l…
The ways of Death are soothing an… And all the words of Death are gr… From camp and church, the fireside… She beckons forth– and strife and… A summer night descending cool and…
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…
When earth’s last thesis is copied From the theses that went before, When idea from fact has departed And bare—boned factlets shall bore… When all joy shall have fled from…
Les yeux d’une morte M’ont salué, Enchassés dans un visage stupide Dont tous les autres traits étaien… Ils m’ont salué
I ha’ seen them 'mid the clouds on… Lo! they pause not for love nor fo… Yet their eyes are as the eyes of… When the white hart breaks his cov… And the white wind breaks the morn…
Listen, my children, and you shall… The midnight activities of Whats-… Scarcely a general now known to fa… Can tell you of that famous day an… When feeble Mr. Asquith, getting…
You were praised, my books, because I had just come from the c… I was twenty years behind the time… so you found an audience ready. I do not disown you,
Aye you’re a man that! ye old mesm… Tyin’ your meanin’ in seventy swad… One must of needs be a hang’d earl… To catch you at worm turning. Hol… ‘Cat’s i’ the water butt!' Though…
Phyllidula is scrawny but amorous, Thus have the gods awarded her, That in pleasure she receives more… If she does not count this blessed Let her change her religion.
Though thou well dost wish me ill Audiart, Audiart, Where thy bodice laces start As ivy fingers clutching through Its crevices,
“Thank you, whatever comes” And t… And, as the ray of sun on hanging… Fades when the wind hath lifted th… Went swiftly from me. Nay, whatev… One hour was sunlit and the most h…