#AmericanWriters
A god in wrath Was beating a man; He cuffed him loudly With thunderous blows That rang and rolled over the eart…
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 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
“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.…
‘It was wrong to do this,’ said th… ‘You should live like a flower, Holding malice like a puppy, Waging war like a lambkin.’ ‘Not so,’ quoth the man
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;
“Truth,” said a traveller, “Is a rock, a mighty fortress; Often have I been to it, Even to its highest tower, From whence the world looks black.…
There came whisperings in the wind… “Good-bye! Good-bye!” Little voices called in the darkne… “Good-bye! Good-bye!” Then I stretched forth my arms.
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,
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…
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—
In the desert I saw a creature, naked, bestial, who, squatting upon the ground, Held his heart in his hands, And ate of it.
“It was wrong to do this,” said th… “You should live like a flower, Holding malice like a puppy, Waging war like a lambkin.” “Not so,” quoth the man
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…
If I should cast off this tattere… And go free into the mighty sky; If I should find nothing there But a vast blue, Echoless, ignorant—