#AmericanWriters
These wet rocks where the tide has… Barnacled white and weeded brown And slimed beneath to a beautiful… These wet rocks where the tide wen… Will show again when the tide is h…
(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!
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…
Mindful of you the sodden earth in… And all the flowers that in the sp… And dusty roads, and thistles, and… Rising of the round moon, all thro… The summer through, and each depar…
I will be the gladdest thing Under the sun! I will touch a hundred flowers And not pick one. I will look at cliffs and clouds
I know I am but summer to your he… And not the full four seasons of t… And you must welcome from another… Such noble moods as are not mine,… No gracious weight of golden fruit…
I cannot but remember When the year grows old— October—November— How she disliked the cold! She used to watch the swallows
Mine is a body that should die at… And have for a grave, instead of a… Six feet deep and the length of me… All the water that is under the wa… And terrible fishes to seize my fl…
For the sake of some things That be now no more I will strew rushes On my chamber-floor, I will plant bergamot
Aye, but she? Your other sister and my other sou… Grave Silence, lovelier Than the three loveliest maidens,… Clio, not you,
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…
In the spring of the year, in the… I walked the road beside my dear. The trees were black where the bar… I see them yet, in the spring of t… He broke me a bough of the blossom…
The first rose on my rose-tree Budded, bloomed, and shattered, During sad days when to me Nothing mattered. Grief of grief has drained me clea…
Read by the poet at The Public C… of Arts and Letters at Carnegie… Great Muse, that from this hall a… Hast never been, Great Muse of Song,
ALL right, Go ahead! What’s in a name? I guess I’ll be locked into As much as I’m locked out of!