August 1922
#Americans #Women #XXCentury
What body can be ploughed, Sown, and broken yearly? But she would not die, she vowed, But she has, nearly. Sing, heart sing;
Here, in the withered arbor, like… Straight sides, carven knees, Stands the statue, with hands flun… Or remonstrances. Over the lintel sway the woven bra…
The landscape where I lie Again from boughs sets free Summer; all night must fly In wind’s obscurity The thick green leaves that made
The dark is thrown Back from the brightness, like hai… Cast over a shoulder. I am alone, Four years older;
Since you would claim the sources… Recall the meshes whence it sprang… The reedy traps which other hands… To close upon it. Conjure up the… Blaze that it cleared so cleanly,…
I had come to the house, in a cave… Facing a sheer sky. Everything moved,—a bell hung read… Sun and reflection wheeled by. When the bare eyes were before me
Women have no wilderness in them, They are provident instead, Content in the tight hot cell of t… To eat dusty bread. They do not see cattle cropping re…
Now that I have your face by hear… Less at its features than its dark… Where quince and melon, yellow as… Lie with quilled dahlias and the s… Beyond, a garden, There, in insol…
You may have all things from me, s… The slight life in my throat will… For your love, nor your loss, nor… Shall I be made a panderer to dea… Dig the green ground for darkness…
I have wept with the spring storm; Burned with the brutal summer. Now, hearing the wind and the twan… The hunt sweeps out upon the plain… They will bring the trophies home…
I burned my life, that I might fi… A passion wholly of the mind, Thought divorced from eye and bone… Ecstasy come to breath alone. I broke my life, to seek relief
To me, one silly task is like anot… I bare the shambling tricks of lus… This flesh will never give a child… Song, like a wing, tears through m… And madness chooses out my voice a…
Love me because I am lost; Love me that I am undone. That is brave,—no man has wished i… Not one. Be strong, to look on my heart
Hypocrite Swift now takes an elde… He lifts Vanessa’s hand. Cudsho,… Drink Wexford Ale and quaff down… But never love. He buys new caps; he and Lord Sta…
The robins’ green-blue eggs Being the complementary color To the robins’ rosy breast— Is it a vision in the eye, a resol… That calls back these birds, to ch…