#AmericanWriters
Still as On windless nights The moon-cast shadows are, So still will be my heart when I Am dead.
Art thou Not kin to him Who loved Mark’s wife and both Died for it? O, thou harper in Green woods?
Well and If day on day Follows and weary year On year . . . and ever days and ye… Well?
The long night through and still a… Estranged from eyes that very wear… Makes blind to dawn.
Hear thou my lamentation, Eros, Aphrodite’s son! My heart is broken and my days are… Where the woods are dark and the s… Eros!
In the cold I will rise, I will b… In waters of ice; myself Will shiver, and shrive myself, Alone in the dawn, and anoint Forehead and feet and hands;
Ere the horne’d owl hoot Once and twice and thrice there sh… Go among the blind brown worms News of thy great burial; When the pomp is passed away,
He comes from Mass early in the m… The sky’s the very blue Madonna w… The air’s alive with gold! Mark y… The birds sing and the dusted shim… On leaf and fruit?..Per Bacco, wh…
The clustered Gods, the marching… The mighty-limbed, deep-bosomed T… The shimmering grey-gold London f… I wish that Phidias could see!
Guardian Of The Treasure Of Sol… And Keeper Of the Prophet’s Armo… My tent A vapour that The wind dispels and but
Not thou, White rose, but thy Ensanguined sister is The dear companion of my heart’s Shed blood.
Scarlet the poppies Blue the corn-flowers, Golden the wheat. Gold for the Eternal: Blue for Our Lady:
Is it as plainly in our living sho… By slant and twist, which way the…
The shadowy boy of night Crosses the dusking land; He sows his poppy-seeds With steady, gentle hand. The shadowy boy of night
Wouldst thou find my ashes? Look In the pages of my book; And as these thy hand doth turn, Know here is my funeral urn.