#Americans #Modernism
this is the garden:colours come an… frail azures fluttering from night… strong silent greens silently ling… absolute lights like baths of gold… This is the garden:pursed lips do…
It was one of those clear,sharp.mu… That summer and man deligh… Never had Heaven seemed quite so… Never had earth seemed quite so gr… Never had the world seemed quite s…
Thou in whose sword-great story sh… Of history her heroes, sounds the… Of those vast armies of the marchi… With standards and the neighing of… Moving to war across the smiling m…
Thy fingers make early flowers of all things. thy hair mostly the hours love: a smoothness which sings,saying
hist whist little ghostthings tip-toe twinkle-toe little twitchy
my smallheaded pearshaped lady in gluey twilight moving,suddenly is three animals. The minute waist continually
it is at moments after i have drea… of the rare entertainment of your… when(being fool to fancy)i have de… with your peculiar mouth my heart… at moments when the glassy darknes…
will suddenly trees leap from wint… the stabbing music of your white y… wounded by my arms’ bothness (say a twilight lifting the fragil… of new leaves’ voices,and sharp li…
who sharpens every dull here comes the only man reminding with his bell to disappear a sun and out of houses pour
Tumbling-hair picker of buttercups … dandelions And the big bullying daisies
a thing most new complete fragile… which wholly trembling memory unde… —your kiss,the little pushings of… my body sorry when the minute moon is a remarkable splinter in the qu…
inthe,exquisite; morning sure lyHer eye s exac… among otherlittle roundtables Her… obstre poroustimidi ties surElyfl)… ofpieces ofof sunligh tof fa l l i…
god pity me whom(god distinctly ha… the weightless svelte drifting sex… of your shall i say body?follows truly through a dribbling moan of… whose arched occasional stepped yo…
Lady of Silence from the winsome cage of thy body rose through the sensible
i have found what you are like the rain, (Who feathers frightened fields with the superior dust-of-sleep. w… easily the pale club of the wind