#AmericanWriters
THE old Old winds that blew When chaos was, what do They tell the clattered trees that… Should weep?
Art thou Not kin to him Who loved Mark’s wife and both Died for it? O, thou harper in Green woods?
The cold With steely clutch Grips all the land. .alack The little people in the hills Will die!
To Walter Savage Landor Ah, Walter, where you lived I rue These days come all too late for m… What matter if her eyes were blue Whose rival is Persephone?
How can you lie so still? All day… And never a blade of all the green… To show where restlessly you toss… And fling a desperate arm or draw… Stiffened and aching from their lo…
The long night through and still a… Estranged from eyes that very wear… Makes blind to dawn.
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…
Was it love breathed on us as on t… Dawn breathes for a short space an… Or loved we never at all who but m… With too dim vision the guarded my… Were we unfaithful or were we unwi…
‘WHY do You thus devise Evil against her?’ ‘For that She is beautiful, delicate; Therefore.’
JUST now, Out of the strange Still dusk . . . as strange, as st… A white moth flew . . . Why am I… So cold?
Sea-foam And coral! Oh, I’ll Climb the great pasture rocks And dream me mermaid in the sun’s Gold flood.
Seen on a night in November How frail Above the bulk Of crashing water hangs, Autumn, evanescent, wan,
Look up . . . From bleakening hills Blows down the light, first breath Of wintry wind . . . look up, and… The snow!
‘Let me be young,’ the Latmian sh… ‘And let me have on night-time hil… Whom she of Cynthus saw, Heaven’s… And gave his youth and dreams her… What news comrade upon the mountai…
Never the nightingale, Oh, my dear, Never again the lark Thou wilt hear; Though dusk and the morning still