Cornhuskers. 1918.
#AmericanWriters
Shine on, O moon of summer. Shine to the leaves of grass, cata… All silver under your rain to-nigh… An Italian boy is sending songs t… accordion.
COOL your heels on the rail of a… Let the engineer open her up for n… Take in the prairie right and left… A gray village flecks by and the h… A barnyard and fifteen Holstein c…
YOU came from the Aztecs With a copper on your fore-arms Tawnier than a sunset Saying good-by to an even river. And I said, you remember,
I AM an ancient reluctant conscri… On the soup wagons of Xerxes I wa… On the march of Miltiades’ phalan… I had a bristling gleaming spear-h… Red-headed Cæsar picked me for a…
The Balloons hang on wires in the… They spot their yellow and gold, t… Balloon face eaters sit by hundred… Poets, lawyers, ad men, mason cont… Here sit the heavy balloon face wo…
And this will be all? And the gates will never open agai… And the dust and the wind will pla… And you will look to the mountains And the mountains will look to you
SELL me a violin, mister, of old… Sell me a fiddle that has kissed d… Sell me dried wood that has ached… Sell me horsehair and rosin that h… Sell me something crushed in the h…
Maybe he believes me, maybe not. Maybe I can marry him, maybe not. Maybe the wind on the prairie, The wind on the sea, maybe, Somebody, somewhere, maybe can tel…
The sea-wash never ends. The sea-wash repeats, repeats. Only old songs? Is that all the s… Only the old strong songs? Is that all?
THE SUMMER shirt sale of a downtown haberdasher is glorified in a show-window slang: everybody understands the language: red dots, yellow circles, blue anchors, and dove-brown hooks, th...
AFTER the last red sunset glimme… Black on the line of a low hill ri… Formed into moving shadows, I saw A plowboy and two horses lined aga… Plowing in the dusk the last furro…
CROSS the hands over the breast… Straighten the legs a little more—… And call for the wagon to come and… Her mother will cry some and so wi… brothers.
The voice of the last cricket across the first frost is one kind of good-by. It is so thin a splinter of singin…
There was a high majestic fooling Day before yesterday in the yellow… And day after to-morrow in the yel… There will be high majestic foolin… The ears ripen in late summer
THREE tailors of Tooley Street… The names are forgotten. It is a… Cutters or bushelmen or armhole ba… cross-legged stitching, snatched a… other thimbles.