#AmericanWriters
Your voice, beloved, on the living… Borne to me by the spirit powerful Who binds the atoms and leaps out… Great suns together! Ah, what mag… Strung for God’s fingers, sounds…
The cactus in the desert stands Like time’s inviolate sentinel, Watching the sun-washed waste of s… Lest they their ancient secrets te… And the lost lore of mournful land…
Give to brave deeds emblazoned shr… Where reverent memories may throng… For them Art draws her perfect li… In stone, in color, and in song. For the Sierra Club Lodge in Yos…
Pearl-gray is the sky, And high within it, sailing by, Three sea-gulls fly. Pearl-white are they Against the sky’s obscurer gray—
So light and soft the days fall’ Like petals one by one Down from yon tree whose flowers a… Must vanish in the sun. Like almond-petals down, dear,
Have you forgotten’you, the chie… The art-director, president, What not, of the establishment’ Forgot how for a moment brief The whole show, all our strife and…
Grand Cañon of Arizona Vishnu, the gods of eld are dead.… Are Zeus, Astarte, and that lotus… Isis of Egypt. Unto each his hour… Yet thou, silent within thy temple…
Sweet Idleness, you linger at the… To lead me down through meadows co… Down to the brook, over whose pebb… The fishes, unafraid, Swim softly, careless of our airy…
Where bold Sierras cut the sky Mount Whitney, of the high most h… Halts the pale clouds that wander… We crept and climbed with eager fe… Until the world, fulfilled, comple…
The wind comes riding down from he… Ho! wind of heaven, what do you br… Cool for the dawn, dew for the eve… And every sweetest thing. O wind of heaven, from pink clouds…
Noises that strive to tear Earth’s mantle soft of air And break upon the stillness where… The noise of battle and the noise… The cooing noise of love that soft…
She heard the children playing in… And through her window saw the whi… Sway like a film of silver in the… Under the purple hills; and one by… She noted chairs and cabinets, and…
GOOD-BY: nay, do not grieve tha… The perfect hour; That the winged joy, sweet honey-l… Flits from the flower. Grieve not,'it is the law. Love…
O Mother of that heap of clay, so… Now do you stare at death, woman,… Now do you long to fare afar, and… Where he must wander all alone, hi… But I now, but I now—
He built a tower for all to see, With sun-washed gardens planted wi… And there with pomp of pageantry, With men-at-arms and minstrelsy And moonbeam ladies fair and free,