#AmericanWriters
I saw her in a Broadway car, The woman I might grow to be; I felt my lover look at her And then turn suddenly to me. Her hair was dull and drew no ligh…
REDBIRDS, redbirds, Long and long ago, What a honey-call you had In hills I used to know; Redbud, buckberry,
Perhaps if Death is kind, and the… We will come back to earth some fr… And take these lanes to find the s… Breathe the same honeysuckle, low… We will come down at night to thes…
I shall gather myself into myself… I shall take my scattered selves a… Fusing them into a polished crysta… Where I can see the moon and the… I shall sit like a sibyl, hour aft…
My window-pane is starred with fro… The world is bitter cold to-night, The moon is cruel, and the wind Is like a two-edged sword to smite… God pity all the homeless ones,
I think the moon is very kind To take such trouble just for me. He came along with me from home To keep me company. He went as fast as I could run;
PLACES I love come back to me l… Hush me and heal me when I am ver… I see the oak woods at Saxton’s f… In a flare of crimson by the frost… And I am thirsty for the spring i…
In the spring I asked the daisies If his words were true, And the clever, clear-eyed daisies Always knew. Now the fields are brown and barre…
The roofs are shining from the rai… The sparrows tritter as they fly, And with a windy April grace The little clouds go by. Yet the back-yards are bare and br…
“Four winds blowing thro’ the sky, You have seen poor maidens die, Tell me then what I shall do That my lover may be true.” Said the wind from out the south,
A wind is blowing over my soul, I hear it cry the whole night thro… Is there no peace for me on earth Except with you? Alas, the wind has made me wise,
They came to tell your faults to m… They named them over one by one; I laughed aloud when they were don… I knew them all so well before, - Oh, they were blind, too blind to…
My soul lives in my body’s house, And you have both the house and he… But sometimes she is less your own Than a wild, gay adventurer; A restless and an eager wraith,
It will not hurt me when I am old… A running tide where moonlight bur… Will not sting me like silver snak… The years will make me sad and col… It is the happy heart that breaks.
The wind is tossing the lilacs, The new leaves laugh in the sun, And the petals fall on the orchard… But for me the spring is done. Beneath the apple blossoms