#AmericanWriters
Ah, could I lay me down in this l… And close my eyes, and let the qui… Blow over me—I am so tired, so ti… Of passing pleasant places! All m… Following Care along the dusty ro…
Death, I say, my heart is bowed Unto thine,—O mother! This red gown will make a shroud Good as any other! (I, that would not wait to wear
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…
What should I be but a prophet an… Whose mother was a leprechaun, who… Teethed on a crucifix and cradled… What should I be but the fiend’s… And who should be my playmates but…
Let them bury your big eyes In the secret earth securely, Your thin fingers, and your fair, Soft, indefinite-colored hair,— All of these in some way, surely,
No matter what I say, All that I really love Is the rain that flattens on the b… And the eel-grass in the cove; The jingle-shells that lie and ble…
I know I might have lived in such… As to have suffered only pain: Loving not man nor dog; Not money, even; feeling Toothache perhaps, but never more…
IF I should learn, in some quite… That you were gone, not to return… Read from the back-page of a paper… Held by a neighbor in a subway tra… How at the corner of this avenue
Only until this cigarette is ended… A little moment at the end of all, While on the floor the quiet ashes… And in the firelight to a lance ex… Bizarrely with the jazzing music b…
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,
I shall go back again to the bleak… And build a little shanty on the s… In such a way that the extremest b… Of brittle seaweed shall escape my… But by a yard or two; and nevermor…
These wet rocks where the tide has… Barnacled white and weeded brown And slimed beneath to a beautiful… These wet rocks where the tide wen… Will show again when the tide is h…
Oh, here the air is sweet and stil… And soft’s the grass to lie on; And far away’s the little hill They took for Christ to die on. And there’s a hill across the broo…
The railroad track is miles away, And the day is loud with voices sp… Yet there isn’t a train goes by al… But I hear its whistle shrieking. All night there isn’t a train goes…
I dreamed I moved among the Elysi… In converse with sweet women long… And out of blossoms which that mea… I wove a garland for your living h… Danai, that was the vessel for a d…