#AmericanWriters
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…
God lay dead in heaven; Angels sang the hymn of the end; Purple winds went moaning, Their wings drip-dripping With blood
In the desert I saw a creature, naked, bestial, who, squatting upon the ground, Held his heart in his hands, And ate of it.
Supposing that I should have the… To let a red sword of virtue Plunge into my heart, Letting to the weeds of the ground My sinful blood,
Mystic shadow, bending near me, Who art thou? Whence come ye? And—tell me—is it fair Or is the truth bitter as eaten fi…
Love walked alone. The rocks cut her tender feet, And the brambles tore her fair lim… There came a companion to her, But, alas, he was no help,
In heaven, Some little blades of grass Stood before God. “What did you do?” Then all save one of the little bl…
And you love me I love you. You are, then, cold coward. Aye; but, beloved, When I strive to come to you,
Two or three angels Came near to the earth. They saw a fat church. Little black streams of people Came and went in continually.
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
Places among the stars, Soft gardens near the sun, Keep your distant beauty; Shed no beams upon my weak heart. Since she is here
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,
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…
The trees in the garden rained flo… Children ran there joyously. They gathered the flowers Each to himself. Now there were some
TELL me why, behind thee, I see always the shadow of another… Is it real Or is this the thrice-damned memor… Plague on him if he be dead