#AmericanWriters
I am wild, I will sing to the tre… I will sing to the stars in the sk… I love, I am loved, he is mine, Now at last I can die! I am sandaled with wind and with f…
I hid the love within my heart, And lit the laughter in my eyes, That when we meet he may not know My love that never dies. But sometimes when he dreams at ni…
The moon is like a scimitar, A little silver scimitar, A-drifting down the sky. And near beside it is a star, A timid twinkling golden star,
I turned the key and opened wide t… To enter my deserted room again, Where thro’ the long hot months th… Was it not lonely when across the… No step was heard, no sudden song…
When the long day goes by And I do not see your face, The old wild, restless sorrow Steals from its hiding place. My day is barren and broken,
OH to be free of myself, With nothing left to remember, To have my heart as bare As a tree in December; Resting, as a tree rests
Fields beneath a quilt of snow From which the rocks and stubble s… And in the west a shy white star That shivers as it wakes from deep… The restless rumble of the train,
I. Off Gilbatrar BEYOND the sleepy hills of Spai… The sun goes down in yellow mist, The sky is fresh with dewy stars Above a sea of amethyst.
When I have ceased to break my wi… Against the faultiness of things, And learned that compromises wait Behind each hardly opened gate, When I have looked Life in the ey…
If you have forgotten water lilies… On a dark lake among mountains in… If you have forgotten their wet, s… Then you can return and not be afr… But if you remember, then turn awa…
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…
I SHOULD be glad of loneliness And hours that go on broken wings, A thirsty body, a tired heart And the unchanging ache of things, If I could make a single song
I said, “My youth is gone Like a fire beaten out by the rain… That will never sway and sing Or play with the wind again.” I said, “It is no great sorrow
All that could never be said, All that could never be done, Wait for us at last Somewhere back of the sun; All the heart broke to forego
There is no magic any more, We meet as other people do, You work no miracle for me Nor I for you. You were the wind and I the sea -