#AmericanWriters
A man went before a strange God— The God of many men, sadly wise. And the deity thundered loudly, Fat with rage, and puffing. “Kneel, mortal, and cringe
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
The livid lightnings flashed in th… The leaden thunders crashed. A worshipper raised his arm. “Hearken! Hearken! The voice of… “Not so,” said a 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…
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…
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 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…
“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
Your cross? The real cross Is made of pounds, Dollars or francs. Here I bear my palms for the sill…
The trees in the garden rained flo… Children ran there joyously. They gathered the flowers Each to himself. Now there were some
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:
Blustering God, Stamping across the sky With loud swagger, I fear You not. No, though from Your highest heav…
Upon the road of my life, Passed me many fair creatures, Clothed all in white, and radiant. To one, finally, I made speech: “Who art thou?”
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,
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,