#AmericanWriters
Your cross? The real cross Is made of pounds, Dollars or francs. Here I bear my palms for the sill…
“I have heard the sunset song of t… A white melody in the silence, I have seen a quarrel of the pines… At nightfall The little grasses have rushed by…
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.
THOU art my love And thou art the peace of sundown When the blue shadows soothe And the grasses and the leaves sle… To the song of the little brooks
Ay, workman, make me a dream, A dream for my love. Cunningly weave sunlight, Breezes, and flowers. Let it be of the cloth of meadows.
Once I saw mountains angry, And ranged in battle-front. Against them stood a little man; Aye, he was no bigger than my fing… I laughed, and spoke to one near m…
I met a seer. He held in his hands The book of wisdom. “Sir,” I addressed him, “Let me read.”
The trees in the garden rained flo… Children ran there joyously. They gathered the flowers Each to himself. Now there were some
Behold, the grave of a wicked man, And near it, a stern spirit. There came a drooping maid with vi… But the spirit grasped her arm. ‘No flowers for him,’ he said.
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…
There was, before me, Mile upon mile Of snow, ice, burning sand. And yet I could look beyond all t… To a place of infinite beauty;
With eye and with gesture You say you are holy. I say you lie; For I did see you Draw away your coats
The impact of a dollar upon the he… Smiles warm red light, Sweeping from the hearth rosily up… With the hanging cool velvet shado… Moving softly upon the door.
The Ocean said to me once, ‘Look! Yonder on the shore Is a woman, weeping. I have watched her.
“Have you ever made a just man?” “Oh, I have made three,” answered… “But two of them are dead, And the third— Listen! Listen!