#AmericanWriters
Minstrel, what have you to do With this man that, after you, Sharing not your happy fate, Sat as England’s Laureate? Vainly, in these iron days,
Thou art not lovelier than lilacs,… Nor honeysuckle; thou art not more… Than small white single poppies,—… Thy beauty; though I bend before… From left to right, not knowing wh…
To what purpose, April, do you re… Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with th… Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know.
I, being born a woman and distress… By all the needs and notions of my… Am urged by your propinquity to fi… Your person fair, and feel a certa… To bear your body’s weight upon my…
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, having loved ever since I was… wavered In these affections; never through… rich or in the presence of clergym… loves;
VIII8. Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that… . Give back my book and take my kiss… .
We talk of taxes, and I call you… Well, such you are,—but well enoug… How thick about us root, how rankl… Those subtle weeds no man has need… That flourish through neglect, and…
These hills, to hurt me more, That am hurt already enough,— Having left the sea behind, Having turned suddenly and left th… That I had loved beyond all words…
Not even my pride shall suffer muc… Not even my pride at all, maybe, If this ill-timed, intemperate clu… Be loosed by you and not by me, Will suffer; I have been so true
No rose that in a garden ever grew… In Homer’s or in Omar’s or in min… Though buried under centuries of f… Dead dust of roses, shut from sun… Forever, and forever lost from vie…
I dreamed I moved among the Elysi… In converse with sweet women long… And out of blossoms which that mea… I wove a garland for your living h… Danai, that was the vessel for a d…
Heap not on this mound Roses that she loved so well: Why bewilder her with roses, That she cannot see or smell? She is happy where she lies
The trees along this city street, Save for the traffic and the train… Would make a sound as thin and swe… As trees in country lanes. And people standing in their shade