#AmericanWriters
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…
Places among the stars, Soft gardens near the sun, Keep your distant beauty; Shed no beams upon my weak heart. Since she is here
There was set before me a mighty h… And long days I climbed Through regions of snow. When I had before me the summit-v… It seemed that my labour
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…
The chatter of a death-demon from… Blood– blood and torn grass – Had marked the rise of his agony - This lone hunter. The grey-green woods impassive
If there is a witness to my little… To my tiny throes and struggles, He sees a fool; And it is not fine for gods to men…
You tell me this is God? I tell you this is a printed list, A burning candle, and an ass.
In the desert I saw a creature, naked, bestial, who, squatting upon the ground, Held his heart in his hands, And ate of it.
The trees in the garden rained flo… Children ran there joyously. They gathered the flowers Each to himself. Now there were some
I walked in a desert. And I cried, “Ah, God, take me from this place… A voice said, “It is no desert.” I cried, “Well, But—
LITTLE birds of the night Aye, they have much to tell Perching there in rows Blinking at me with their serious… Recounting of flowers they have se…
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…
A spirit sped Through spaces of night; And as he sped, he called, “God! God!” He went through valleys
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.
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