#AmericanWriters
When first I saw you, felt you ta… I could not speak for happiness to… How more than all they said your h… How strong you were, and quick to… I dared not say: “I who am least…
WHEN they see my songs They will sigh and say, ‘Poor soul, wistful soul, Lonely night and day.’ They will never know
Come, when the pale moon like a pe… Floats in the pearly dusk of sprin… Come with outstretched arms to tak… Come with lips pursed up to cling. Come, for life is a frail moth fly…
SO long as my spirit still Is glad of breath And lifts its plumes of pride In the dark face of death; While I am curious still
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…
When I went to look at what had l… A jewel laid long ago in a secret… I trembled, for I thought to see… But only a pinch of dust blew up i… I almost gave my life long ago for…
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,
Willow in your April gown Delicate and gleaming, Do you mind in years gone by All my dreaming? Spring was like a call to me
My heart is but a little house With room for only three or four, And it was filled before you knock… Upon the door. I longed to bid you come within,
Oh I have sown my love so wide That he will find it everywhere; It will awake him in the night, It will enfold him in the air. I set my shadow in his sight
Less than the cloud to the wind, Less than the foam to the sea, Less than the rose to the storm, Am I to thee. More than the star to the night,
If I should see your eyes again, I know how far their look would go… Back to a morning in the park With sapphire shadows on the snow. Or back to oak trees in the spring
The city’s all a-shining Beneath a fickle sun, A gay young wind’s a-blowing, The little shower is done. But the rain-drops still are cling…
Fairy snow, fairy snow, Blowing, blowing everywhere, Would that I Too, could fly Lightly, lightly through the air.
One by one, like leaves from a tre… All my faiths have forsaken me; But the stars above my head Burn in white and delicate red, And beneath my feet the earth