#AmericanWriters
Cruel of heart, lay down my song, Your reading eyes have done me wro… Not for you was the pen bitten, And the mind wrung, and the song w…
I had forgotten how the frogs must… After a year of silence, else I t… I should not so have ventured fort… At dusk upon this unfrequented roa… I am waylaid by Beauty. Who will…
Oh, lay my ashes on the wind That blows across the sea. And I shall meet a fisherman Out of Capri, And he will say, seeing me,
Here is a wound that never will he… Being wrought not of a dearness an… But of a love turned ashes and the… Gone out of beauty; never again wi… The grass on that scarred acre, th…
I said,—for Love was laggard, O,… “I’ll hear his step and know his s… bed; But I’ll never leave my pillow, t… As would let him in—and take him i…
There was a road ran past our hous… Too lovely to explore. I asked my mother once—she said That if you followed where it led It brought you to the milk-man’s d…
XLI I, being born a woman and distress… By all the needs and notions of my… Am urged by your propinquity to fi… Your person fair, and feel a certa…
When I too long have looked upon… Wherein for me a brightness unobsc… Save by the mists of brightness ha… And terrible beauty not to be endu… I turn away reluctant from your li…
I will be the gladdest thing Under the sun! I will touch a hundred flowers And not pick one. I will look at cliffs and clouds
Whereas at morning in a Jeweled C… I bit my fingers and was hard to p… Having shook disaster till the fru… I feel tonight more happy and at e… Feet running in the corridors, men…
This door you might not open, and… So enter now, and see for what sli… You are betrayed.... Here is no t… No cauldron, no clear crystal mirr… The sought-for truth, no heads of…
No hawk hangs over in this air: The urgent snow is everywhere. The wing adroiter than a sail Must lean away from such a gale, Abandoning its straight intent,
Give away her gowns, Give away her shoes; She has no more use For her fragrant gowns; Take them all down,
Set the foot down with distrust up… world—it is thin. Moles are at work beneath us; they… sub-soil With separate chambers; which at a…
I cannot but remember When the year grows old— October—November— How she disliked the cold! She used to watch the swallows