#Americans #Modernism #XXCentury
I’ve fond anticipation of a day O’erfilled with pure diversion pre… For I must read a lady poesy The while we glide by many a leafy… Hid deep in rushes, where at rando…
By the road to the contagious hosp… under the surge of the blue mottled clouds driven from the northeast—a cold wind. Beyond, the waste of broad, muddy fields
It is a satisfaction a joy to have one of those in the house. when she takes a bath
The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail
Subtle, clever brain, wiser than… by what devious means do you contr… to remain idle? Teach me, O maste…
You sullen pig of a man you force me into the mud with your stinking ash-cart! Brother! —if we were rich
It is cold. The white moon is up among her scattered stars— like the bare thighs of the Police Sergeant’s wife—among her five children . . .
Love is twain, it is not single, Gold and silver mixed to one, Passion 'tis and pain which ming… Glist’ring then for aye undone. Pain it is not; wondering pity
By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him.
SOFT as the bed in the earth Where a stone has lain— So soft, so smooth and so cool, Spring closes me in With her arms and her hands.
Leaves are graygreen, the glass broken, bright green.
Gagarin says, in ecstasy, he could have gone on forever he floated at and sang
This quiet morning light reflected, how many times from grass and tress and clouds enters my north room touching the walls with
They tell me on the morrow I must… This winter eyrie for a southern f… And truth to tell I tremble with… At thought of such unheralded repr… E’er have I known December in a w…
Oh, black Persian cat! Was not your life already cursed with offspring? We took you for rest to that old Yankee farm, —so lonely
