#AmericanWriters
Little my lacking fortunes show For this to eat and that to wear; Yet laughing, Soul, and gaily go! An obol pays the Stygian fare. London, 1910
No guile? Nay, but so strangely He moves among us. . Not this Man but Barabbas! Release to us Barabbas!
Oh Lady, let the sad tears fall To speak thy pain, Gently as through the silver dusk The silver rain. Oh, let thy bosom breathe its grie…
Force and bluster? Mighty threate… Scorn I lightly, - Not for these. Tell me when shall great Orion Catch the flying Pleuades?
In a cave born (Mary said) In a cave is My Son buried
Well and If day on day Follows and weary year On year . . . and ever days and ye… Well?
As I went, as I went Over the mountains, I heard, I heard, Through cloud-wreath and mist, A hound that was baying -
Lo, All the Way, Look you, I said, the clouds will… Grow clear, the road Be easier for my travelling the fi… So sodden and dead,
Thou hast Drawn laughter from A well of secret tears And thence so elvish it rings, –mo… And sweet.
Fugitive, wistful, Pausing at edge of her going, Autumn, the maiden, turns, Leans to the earth with ineffable Gesture. Ah, more than
My songs to sell, sweet maid! I pray you buy. Here’s one will win a lady’s tears… Here’s one will make her gay, Here’s one will charm your true lo…
‘WHY do You thus devise Evil against her?’ ‘For that She is beautiful, delicate; Therefore.’
But me They cannot touch, Old age and death. .the strange And ignominious end of old Dead folk!
Seen on a night in November How frail Above the bulk Of crashing water hangs, Autumn, evanescent, wan,
Oh me, Was there a time When Paradise knew Eve In this sweet guise, so placid and