#AmericanWriters
What lips my lips have kissed, and… I have forgotten, and what arms ha… Under my head till morning; but th… Is full of ghosts tonight, that ta… Upon the glass and listen for repl…
Cherish you then the hope I shall… At length, my lord, Pieria?—put a… For your so passing sake, this mou… These mortal bones against my body… For all the puny fever and frail s…
And you as well must die, belovèd… And all your beauty stand you in n… This flawless, vital hand, this pe… This body of flame and steel, befo… Of Death, or under his autumnal f…
(Vassar College, 1918) O, loveliest throat of all sweet t… Where now no more the music is, With hands that wrote you little n… I write you little elegies!
If I were to walk this way Hand in hand with Grief, I should mark that maple-spray Coming into leaf. I should note how the old burrs
Why do you follow me?— Any moment I can be Nothing but a laurel-tree. Any moment of the chase I can leave you in my place
There it was I saw what I shall n… And never retrieve. Monstrous and beautiful to human e… believe, He lay, yet there he lay,
Once from a big, big building, When I was small, small, The queer folk in the windows Would smile at me and call. And in the hard wee gardens
I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for D… I hear him leading his horse out o… I hear the clatter on the barn-flo… He is in haste; he has business in…
Aye, but she? Your other sister and my other sou… Grave Silence, lovelier Than the three loveliest maidens,… Clio, not you,
Safe upon the solid rock the ugly… Come and see my shining palace bui…
Think not, not for a moment let yo… Wearied with thinking, doze upon t… That the work’s done and the long… And beauty, since 'tis paid for, c… If in the moonlight from the silen…
Night is my sister, and how deep i… How drowned in love and weedily wa… There to be fretted by the drag an… At the tide’s edge, I lie—these t… Whose arm alone between me and the…
The railroad track is miles away, And the day is loud with voices sp… Yet there isn’t a train goes by al… But I hear its whistle shrieking. All night there isn’t a train goes…
All I could see from where I stoo… Was three long mountains and a woo… I turned and looked another way, And saw three islands in a bay. So with my eyes I traced the line