#AmericanWriters
Who was there had seen us Wouldn’t bid him run? Heavy lay between us All our sires had done. There he was, a-springing
Should they whisper false of you. Never trouble to deny; Should the words they say be true, Weep and storm and swear they lie.
If it shine or if it rain, Little will I care or know. Days, like drops upon a pane, Slip, and join, and go. At my door’s another lad;
I. The Minor Poet His little trills and chirpings we… No music like the nightingale’s wa… Within his throat; but he, too, la… Upon a thorn.
Love has gone a-rocketing. That is not the worst; I could do without the thing, And not be the first. Joy has gone the way it came.
In April, in April, My one love came along, And I ran the slope of my high hi… To follow a thread of song. His eyes were hard as porphyry
Helen of Troy had a wandering gla… Sappho’s restriction was only the… Ninon was ever the chatter of Fra… But oh, what a good girl am I!
Who call him spurious and shoddy Shall do it o’er my lifeless body. I heartily invite such birds To come outside and say those word…
So silent I when Love was by He yawned, and turned away; But Sorrow clings to my apron-str… I have so much to say.
Chloe’s hair, no doubt, was bright… Lydia’s mouth more sweetly sad; Hebe’s arms were rather whiter; Languorous-lidded Helen had Eyes more blue than e’er the sky w…
Men seldom make passes At girls who wear glasses.
Accursed from their birth they be Who seek to find monogamy, Pursuing it from bed to bed– I think they would be better dead.
I dunno yer highfalutin’ words, bu… When I’m peekin’ out th’ winder o… I’ve been lookin’ 'roun’ this big… An’ I want t’ tell ye, neighbor m… I’ve ben settin’ here, a-thinkin’…
Were you to cross the world, my de… To work or love or fight, I could be calm and wistful here, And close my eyes at night. It were a sweet and gallant pain
I always say, I always said If I were grown and free, I’d have a gown of reddest red As fine as you could see, To wear out walking, sleek and slo…