#AmericanWriters
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
Every night I lie awake And every day I lie abed And hear the doctors, Pain and De… Confering at my head. They speak in scientific tones,
Wind and hail and veering rain, Driven mist that veils the day, Soul’s distress and body’s pain, I would bear you while I may. I would love you if I might,
What do I care, in the dreams and… That my songs do not show me at al… For they are a fragrance, and I a… I am an answer, they are only a ca… But what do I care, for love will…
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…
I built a little House of Dreams, And fenced it all about, But still I heard the Wind of Tr… That roared without. I laid a fire of Memories
There! See the line of lights, A chain of stars down either side… Why can’t you lift the chain and g… A necklace for my throat? I’d tw… And you could play with it. You…
The world is tired, the year is ol… The little leaves are glad to die, The wind goes shivering with cold Among the rushes dry. Our love is dying like the grass,
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…
At midnight, when the moonlit cypr… Have woven round his grave a magic… Still weeping the unfinished hymn… There moves fresh Maia, like a mo… Blown over jonquil beds when warm…
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
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…
No one worth possessing Can be quite possessed; Lay that on your heart, My young angry dear; This truth, this hard and precious…
To-night I close my eyes and see A strange procession passing me— The years before I saw your face Go by me with a wistful grace; They pass, the sensitive, shy year…
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…