#AmericanWriters
I explain the silvered passing of… The sweep of each sad lost wave, The dwindling boom of the steel th… The little cry of a man to a man, A shadow falling across the greyer…
There was a man with tongue of woo… Who essayed to sing, And in truth it was lamentable. But there was one who heard The clip-clapper of this tongue of…
Do not weep, maiden, for war is ki… Because your lover threw wild hand… And the affrighted steed ran on al… Do not weep. War is kind.
God lay dead in heaven; Angels sang the hymn of the end; Purple winds went moaning, Their wings drip-dripping With blood
God fashioned the ship of the worl… With the infinite skill of an All… Made He the hull and the sails, Held He the rudder Ready for adjustment.
A newspaper is a collection of hal… Which, bawled by boys from mile to… Spreads its curious opinion To a million merciful and sneering… While families cuddle the joys of…
Once there came a man Who said, “Range me all men of the world in… And instantly There was terrific clamour among t…
There was crimson clash of war. Lands turned black and bare; Women wept; Babes ran, wondering. There came one who understood not…
A god in wrath Was beating a man; He cuffed him loudly With thunderous blows That rang and rolled over the eart…
“Have you ever made a just man?” “Oh, I have made three,” answered… “But two of them are dead, And the third— Listen! Listen!
“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.…
ONCE I saw mountains angry, And ranged in battle-front. Against them stood a little man; Ay, he was no bigger than my finge… I laughed, and spoke to one near m…
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…
There were many who went in huddle… They knew not whither; But, at any rate, success or calam… Would attend all in equality. There was one who sought a new roa…
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.
