#Americans
Blustering God, Stamping across the sky With loud swagger, I fear You not. No, though from Your highest heav…
Once, I knew a fine song, —It is true, believe me— It was all of birds, And I held them in a basket; When I opened the wicket,
EACH small gleam was a voice —A lantern voice— In little songs of carmine, violet… A chorus of colors came over the w… The wondrous leaf-shadow no longer…
And you love me I love you. You are, then, cold coward. Aye; but, beloved, When I strive to come to you,
“Have you ever made a just man?” “Oh, I have made three,” answered… “But two of them are dead, And the third— Listen! Listen!
Yes, I have a thousand tongues, And nine and ninety-nine lie. Though I strive to use the one, It will make no melody at my will, But is dead in my mouth.
“Think as I think,” said a man, “Or you are abominably wicked; You are a toad.” And after I had thought of it, I said, “I will, then, be a toad.…
A man saw a ball of gold in the sk… He climbed for it, And eventually he achieved it— It was clay. Now this is the strange part:
AH, God, the way your little fing… As you thrust a bare arm backward And made play with your hair And a comb a silly gilt comb Ah, God—that I should suffer
On the desert A silence from the moon’s deepest… Fire rays fall athwart the robes Of hooded men, squat and dumb. Before them, a woman
A slant of sun on dull brown walls… A forgotten sky of bashful blue. Toward God a mighty hymn, A song of collisions and cries, Rumbling wheels, hoof-beats, bells…
Friend, your white beard sweeps th… Why do you stand, expectant? Do you hope to see it In one of your withered days? With your old eyes
A MAN builded a bugle for the st… The focused winds hurled him afar. He said that the instrument was a… II When the suicide arrived at the sk…
The livid lightnings flashed in th… The leaden thunders crashed. A worshipper raised his arm. “Hearken! Hearken! The voice of… “Not so,” said a man.
