#AmericanWriters
Friend, your white beard sweeps th… Why do you stand, expectant? Do you hope to see it In one of your withered days? With your old eyes
I HEARD thee laugh, And in this merriment I defined the measure of my pain; I knew that I was alone, Alone with love,
I looked here; I looked there; Nowhere could I see my love. And—this time— She was in my heart.
Should the wide world roll away Leaving black terror Limitless night, Nor God, nor man, nor place to st… Would be to me essential
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 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.
Each small gleam was a voice, A lantern voice— In little songs of carmine, violet… A chorus of colours came over the… The wondrous leaf-shadow no longer…
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
A god in wrath Was beating a man; He cuffed him loudly With thunderous blows That rang and rolled over the eart…
Fast rode the knight With spurs, hot and reeking, Ever waving an eager sword, “To save my lady!” Fast rode the knight,
“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 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…
“And the sins of the fathers shall… visited upon the heads of the chil… even unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me.” Well, then I hate thee, unrighteo…
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.
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.