#AmericanWriters
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
Not with libations, but with shout… We drenched the altars of Love’s… Shaking to earth green fruits, imp… The launching of the colored moths… Love’s proper myrtle and his mothe…
I think I will learn some beautif… Purposes, work hard at that. I think I will learn the Latin na… America but wherever they sing. (Shun meditation, though; invite t…
XLI 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…
When I too long have looked upon… Wherein for me a brightness unobsc… Save by the mists of brightness ha… And terrible beauty not to be endu… I turn away reluctant from your li…
Detestable race, continue to expun… Breed faster, crowd, encroach, sin… Make speeches, unveil statues, iss… Convert again into explosives the… Convert again into putrescent matt…
This door you might not open, and… So enter now, and see for what sli… You are betrayed.... Here is no t… No cauldron, no clear crystal mirr… The sought-for truth, no heads of…
For the sake of some things That be now no more I will strew rushes On my chamber-floor, I will plant bergamot
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
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
As to some lovely temple, tenantle… Long since, that once was sweet wi… Knowing well its altars ruined and… Grown up between the stones, yet f… Of grief hard driven, or great lon…
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…
How shall I know, unless I go To Cairo and Cathay, Whether or not this blessed spot Is blest in every way? Now it may be, the flower for me
She is neither pink nor pale, And she never will be all mine; She learned her hands in a fairy-t… And her mouth on a valentine. She has more hair than she needs;
I, having loved ever since I was… wavered In these affections; never through… rich or in the presence of clergym… loves;
