#AmericanWriters
A youth in apparel that glittered Went to walk in a grim forest. There he met an assassin Attired all in garb of old days; He, scowling through the thickets,
Two or three angels Came near to the earth. They saw a fat church. Little black streams of people Came and went in continually.
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…
“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.…
Black riders came from the sea. There was clang and clang of spear… And clash and clash of hoof and he… Wild shouts and the wave of hair In the rush upon the wind:
Many workmen Built a huge ball of masonry Upon a mountain-top. Then they went to the valley below… And turned to behold their work.
In the night Grey heavy clouds muffled the vall… And the peaks looked toward God a… ‘O Master that movest the wind wi… Humble, idle, futile peaks are we.
When a people reach the top of a h… Then does God lean toward them, Shortens tongues and lengthens arm… A vision of their dead comes to th… The moon shall not be too old
Behold, from the land of the farth… I returned. And I was in a reptile-swarming p… Peopled, otherwise, with grimaces, Shrouded above in black impenetrab…
Charity thou art a lie, A toy of women, A pleasure of certain men. In the presence of justice, Lo, the walls of the temple
When the prophet, a complacent fat… Arrived at the mountain-top, He cried: “Woe to my knowledge! I intended to see good white lands And bad black lands,
There was a land where lived no vi… A traveller at once demanded: “Wh… The people told him: “Once the violets of this place sp… ‘Until some woman freely gives her…
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…
Walking in the sky, A man in strange black garb Encountered a radiant form. Then his steps were eager; Bowed he devoutly.
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