#AmericanWriters
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.
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.
The Ocean said to me once, ‘Look! Yonder on the shore Is a woman, weeping. I have watched her.
Forth went the candid man And spoke freely to the wind— When he looked about him he was in… Forth went the candid man And spoke freely to the stars—
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;
A man toiled on a burning road, Never resting. Once he saw a fat, stupid ass Grinning at him from a green place… The man cried out in rage,
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 ocean said to me once, “Look! Yonder on the shore Is a woman, weeping. I have watched her.
I stood musing in a black world, Not knowing where to direct my fee… And I saw the quick stream of men Pouring ceaselessly, Filled with eager faces,
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
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…
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 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…
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