#Americans #Women
There still are kindly things for… Who am afraid to dream, afraid to… This little chair of scrubbed and… This easy book, this fire, sedate… And I shall stay with them, nor c…
And if, my friend, you’d have it e… There’s naught to hear or tell. But need you try to black my eye In wishing me farewell. Though I admit an edged wit
The day that I was christened– It’s a hundred years, and more!- A hag came and listened At the white church door, A-hearing her that bore me
This is what I vow; He shall have my heart to keep, Sweetly will we stir and sleep, All the years, as now. Swift the measured sands may run;
Love is sharper than stones or sti… Lone as the sea, and deeper blue; Loud in the night as a clock that… Longer-lived than the Wandering J… Show me a love was done and throug…
When you are gone, there is nor bl… Nor singing sea at night, nor silv… And I can only stare, and shape m… In little words. I cannot conjure loveliness, to dr…
Daily dawns another day; I must up, to make my way. Though I dress and drink and eat, Move my fingers and my feet, Learn a little, here and there,
Men seldom make passes At girls who wear glasses.
Authors and actors and artists and… Never know nothing, and never know… Sculptors and singers and those of… Tell their affairs from Seattle t… Playwrights and poets and such hor…
Oh, life is a glorious cycle of so… A medley of extemporanea; And love is a thing that can never… And I am Marie of Roumania.
For this my mother wrapped me warm… And called me home against the sto… And coaxed my infant nights to qui… And gave me roughage in my diet, And tucked me in my bed at eight,
When I admit neglect of Gissing, They say I don’t know what I’m mi… Until their arguments are subtler, I think I’ll stick to Samuel But…
The ladies men admire, I’ve heard… Would shudder at a wicked word. Their candle gives a single light; They’d rather stay at home at nigh… They do not keep awake till three,
This, no song of an ingénue, This, no ballad of innocence; This, the rhyme of a lady who Followed ever her natural bents. This, a solo of sapience,
Oh, mercifullest one of all, Oh, generous as dear, None lived so lowly, none so small… Thou couldst withhold thy tear: How swift, in pure compassion,