#AmericanWriters
“Bring me soft song,” said Aladdi… “This tailor-shop sings not at all… Chant me a word of the twilight, Of roses that mourn in the fall. Bring me a song like hashish
I asked her, “Is Aladdin’s lamp Hidden anywhere?” “Look into your heart,” she said, “Aladdin’s lamp is there.” She took my heart with glowing han…
What is my mast? A pen. What are my sails? Ten crescent m… What is my sea? A bottle of ink. Where do I go? To heaven again. What do I eat? The amaranth flowe…
The Hope of the Resurrection Though I have watched so many mou… O’er the real dead, in dull earth… Those dead seemed but the shadows… That passed and left me in the sun…
The Jazz-bird sings a barnyard so… A cock-a-doodle bray, A jingle-bells, a boiler works, A he-man’s roundelay. The eagle said, ‘My noisy son,
Tolstoi is plowing yet. When the… High in the sky shines a field as… There he toils for the Kingdom of… Ah, he is taller than clouds of th… Only the congress of planets is ov…
Where now the huts are empty, Where never a camp-fire glows, In an abandoned cañon, A Gambler’s Ghost arose. He muttered there, “The moon’s a…
Thou wilt not sentence to eternal… My soul that prays that it may sle… Like a white statue dropped into t… Covered with sand, covered with ch… And slave-bones, tossed from many…
“If I could set the moon upon This table,” said my friend, “Among the standard poets And brouchures without end, And noble prints of old Japan,
[Supposed to be chanted to some… Chant we the story now Tho’ in a house we sleep; Tho’ by a hearth of coals Vigil to-night we keep.
A Fantasy, dedicated to the little poet Alice Oliver Henderson, ten years old. The Fantasy shows how tiger-hearts are the cause of war in all ages. It shows how the mammoth forces ma...
(A Negro Sermon.) Once, in a night as black as ink, She drove him out when he would no… Round the house there were men in… Asleep in rows by the Gaza gate.
Though better men may fear that tr… I meet you, lady, on the Judgment… With golden hope my spirit still a… Our God who made you all so fair… Is three times gentle, and before…
FOR A VERY LITTLE GI… CATHARINE FRAZEE WAKEF… The sun gives not directly The coal, the diamond crown; Not in a special basket
Last night at black midnight I wo… The windows were shaking, there wa… The floor was a-tremble, the door… White fires, crimson fires, shone… I rushed to the door yard. The ci…