#AmericanWriters
Always we are following a light, Always the light recedes; with gro… We stretch toward this glory, whil… We journey through are hidden from… Dim and mysterious, folded deep in…
A Minstrel stands on a marble sta… Blown by the bright wind, debonair… Below lies the sea, a sapphire flo… Above on the terrace a turret door Frames a lady, listless and wan,
You glow in my heart Like the flames of uncontrolled ca… But when I go to warm my hands, My clumsiness overturns the light, and then I stumble
This little bowl is like a mossy p… In a Spring wood, where dogtooth… Nodding in chequered sunshine of t… A quiet place, still, with the sou… Where, though unseen, is heard the…
Before me lies a mass of shapeless… Unseparated atoms, and I must Sort them apart and live them. Si… Covers the formless heap. Repriev… There are none, ever. As a monk w…
Life is a stream On which we strew Petal by petal the flower of our h… The end lost in dream, They float past our view,
Alone, I whet my soul against the… Unwrinkled sky, with its long stre… I polish it with sunlight and pale… And damascene it with young blowin… Into the handle of my life I set
I ask but one thing of you, only o… That always you will be my dream o… That never shall I wake to find u… All this I have believed and rest… Forever vanished, like a vision go…
Near where I live there is a lake As blue as blue can be, winds make It dance as they go blowing by. I think it curtseys to the sky. It’s just a lake of lovely flowers
They brought me a quilled, yellow… Opulent, flaunting. Round gold Flung out of a pale green stalk. Round, ripe gold
When I looked into your eyes, I saw a garden With peonies, and tinkling pagodas… And round-arched bridges Over still lakes.
When I go away from you The world beats dead Like a slackened drum. I call out for you against the jut… And shout into the ridges of the w…
The day is fresh-washed and fair, and there is a smell of tulips and narcissus in the air. The sunshine pours in at the bath-room window and bores through the water in the bath-tub in ...
Why do you subdue yourself in gold… Why do you dim yourself with folde… Do you not see that I can buy bro… And that I am choked in the twili… How pale you would be, and startli…
What instinct forces man to journe… Urged by a longing blind but domin… Nothing he sees can hold him, noth… His never failing eagerness. The… Setting in splendour every night h…
