#AmericanWriters
IF I should learn, in some quite… That you were gone, not to return… Read from the back-page of a paper… Held by a neighbor in a subway tra… How at the corner of this avenue
God had called us, and we came; Our loved Earth to ashes left; Heaven was a neighbor’s house, Open to us, bereft. Gay the lights of Heaven showed,
Whereas at morning in a Jeweled C… I bit my fingers and was hard to p… Having shook disaster till the fru… I feel tonight more happy and at e… Feet running in the corridors, men…
No hawk hangs over in this air: The urgent snow is everywhere. The wing adroiter than a sail Must lean away from such a gale, Abandoning its straight intent,
I know the face of Falsehood and… Honeyed with unction, Plausible w… Are dear to men, whom count me not… That owe their daily credit to her… Such have been succoured out of gr…
If I grow bitterly, Like a gnarled and stunted tree, Bearing harshly of my youth Puckered fruit that sears the mout… If I make of my drawn boughs
No, I will go alone. I will come back when it’s over. Yes, of course I love you. No, it will not be long. Why may you not come with me?—
(He speaks, but to himself, being… Think not I have not heard. Well-fanged the double word And well-directed flew. I felt it. Down my side
Boys and girls that held her dear, Do your weeping now; All you loved of her lies here. Brought to earth the arrogant brow… And the withering tongue
Cold wind of autumn, blowing loud At dawn, a fortnight overdue, Jostling the doors, and tearing t… My bedroom to rejoin the cloud, I know—for I can hear the hiss
Cruel of heart, lay down my song, Your reading eyes have done me wro… Not for you was the pen bitten, And the mind wrung, and the song w…
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…
And what are you that, wanting you… I should be kept awake As many nights as there are days With weeping for your sake? And what are you that, missing you…
I am not resigned to the shutting… So it is, and so it will be, for s… Into the darkness they go, the wis… With lilies and with laurel they g… Lovers and thinkers, into the eart…
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,