#AmericanWriters
She comes, the dreamy daughter Of day and night, a girl, Who o’er the western water Lifts up her moon of pearl: Like some Rebecca at the well,
The Woolworth Building ENORMOUSLY it lifts Its tower against the splendor of… Like some wild dream that drifts Before the mind, and at the will’s…
He found the road so long and lone That he was fain to turn again. The bird’s faint note, the bee’s l… Seemed to his heart to monotone The unavailing and the vain,
She was strange as the orchids tha… And glimmer and shower their balm And bloom on the tropical ocean, That crystals round islands of pal… And she sang to and beckoned and b…
Hold to the rapture: let it work Inward till founts of being fill, And all is clear that once was mur… And Beauty’s self rise, mirrored… Before the mind, that shall devise
Was it a dream, Or a whim of the night? Or did they gleam Upon my sight An instant there in the wan moonli…
He makes a roadway of the crumblin… Or on the fallen tree,-brown as a… Fall stripes with russet,-gambols… Green twilight of the woods. We s… He comes, nor whither (in a time s…
I. SPRING ON THE HILLS Ah, shall I follow, on the hills, The Spring, as wild wings follow? Where wild-plum trees make wan the… Crabapple trees the hollow,
Here is a tale for poets and for p… There was a bagpipe once, that whe… And droned vile discords, notes th… Nasal and harsh, outbraying all th… And then the thing assumed another…
Here where the season turns the la… Among the fields our feet have kno… When we were children who would la… Glad little playmates of the wind… Before came toil and care and year…
To me all beauty that I see Is melody made visible: An earth-translated state, may be, Of music heard in Heaven or Hell. Out of some love-impassioned strai…
Through woods the Spanish moss ma… With deeps the daylight never reac… The water sluices slow its way, And chokes with weeds its beaches. ‘T was here, lost in this lone bay…
Beautiful-bosomed, O Night, in th… Move with majesty onward! soaring,… As a singer may soar the notes of… The stars and the moon Through the clerestories high of t…
Those were the days of doubt. How… It all comes back! This ribbon, s… Brings that far past so very near I lose my own identity, And seem two beings: one that’s he…
In her wimple of wind and her slip… The twilight comes like a little g… Herding her owls with many’tu-whoo… Her little brown owls in the woodl… Where dimly she walks in her whisp…