#Americans
Serene he stands, with mist serene… And draws a cloak of trees about h… The thunder roars but cannot break… And from his rugged face the tempe… He does not heed the angry lightni…
I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the earth’s sweet flowing… A tree that looks at God all day,
In a wood they call the Rouge Bou… There is a new-made grave to-day, Built by never a spade nor pick Yet covered with earth ten metres… There lie many fighting men,
(For Kenton) An iron hand has stilled the throa… That throbbed with loud and rhythm… And dammed the flood of silver not… That drenched the world in melody.
(For Edward J. Wheeler) Within the Jersey City shed The engine coughs and shakes its h… The smoke, a plume of red and whit… Waves madly in the face of night.
A few long-hoarded pennies in his… Behold him stand; A kilted Hedonist, perplexed and… The joy that once he had, The first delight of ownership is…
(For Aline) When you shall die and to the sky Serenely, delicately go, Saint Peter, when he sees you the… Will clash his keys and say:
Her lips’ remark was: “Oh, you ki… Her soul spoke thus (I know it di… “O king of realms of endless joy, My own, my golden grocer’s boy, I am a princess forced to dwell
(For Amelia Josephine Burr) The road is wide and the stars are… and the breath of the night is swe… And this is the time when wanderlu… But I’m glad to turn from the ope…
Squire Adam had two wives, they s… Two wives had he, for his delig… He kissed and clypt them all the d… And clypt and kissed them all t… Now Eve like ocean foam was wh…
(For A. K. K.) What distant mountains thrill and… Beneath our Lady Folly’s tread? Why has she left us, wise in woe, Shrewd, practical, uncomforted?
“Dulce et decorum est” The bugle echoes shrill and sweet, But not of war it sings to-day. The road is rhythmic with the feet Of men-at-arms who come to pray.
Severe against the pleasant arc of… The great stone box is cruelly dis… The street becomes more dreary fro… And vagrant breezes touch its wall… Here sullen convicts in their chai…
(For Aline) From what old ballad, or from what… Did you descend to glorify the ear… Was it from Chaucer’s singing boo… Or did Watteau’s small brushes gi…
(For Aline) Monsignore, Right Reverend Bishop Valentinus… Sometime of Interamna, which is c… Now of the delightful Court of He…
