#AmericanWriters
I have come the selfsame path To the selfsame door, Years have left the roses there Burning as before While I watch them in the wind
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…
They said he sent his love to me, They wouldn’t put it in my hand, And when I asked them where it wa… They said I couldn’t understand. I thought they must have hidden it…
I was a queen, and I have lost my… A wife, and I have broken all my… A lover, and I ruined him I loved… There is no other havoc left to do… A little month ago I was a queen,
Oh day of fire and sun, Pure as a naked flame, Blue sea, blue sky and dun Sands where he spoke my name; Laughter and hearts so high
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…
We held the book together timidly, Whose antique music in an alien to… Once rose among the dew-drenched v… Beneath a high Castilian balcony. I felt the lute strings’ ancient e…
(For a picture by Duncan Walker) Lady, light in the east hangs low, Draw your veils of dream apart, Under the casement stands Pierrot Making a song to ease his heart.
I THOUGHT of you when I was wa… By a wind that made me glad and af… Of the rushing, pouring sound of t… That the great trees made. One thought in my mind went over a…
My soul is a dark ploughed field In the cold rain; My soul is a broken field Ploughed by pain. Where grass and bending flowers
I saw a star slide down the sky, Blinding the north as it went by, Too burning and too quick to hold, Too lovely to be bought or sold, Good only to make wishes on
I must have passed the crest a whi… And now I am going down— Strange to have crossed the crest… But the brambles were always grabb… All the morning I thought how pro…
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…
Out of the delicate dream of the d… Veiled in the violet folds of the… Softly the dream grows awakening—s… Splashes of crimson, the gay bouga… High in the infinite blue of its h…
“She can’t be unhappy,” you said, “The smiles are like stars in her… And her laughter is thistledown Around her low replies.” “Is she unhappy?” you said—