#AmericanWriters
Come, my songs, let us express our… Let us express our envy for the ma… You are very idle, my songs, I fear you will come to a bad end. You stand about the streets, You…
Blue, blue is the grass about the… And the willows have overfilled th… And within, the mistress, in the m… White, white of face, hesitates, p… Slender, she puts forth a slender…
The scientists are in terror and the European mind stops Wynham Lewis chose blindness rather than have his mind stop. Night under wind mid garofani,
Rest Master, for we be a-weary, w… And would feel the fingers of the… Upon these lids that lie over us Sodden and lead-heavy. Rest brother, for lo! the dawn is…
O Chansons foregoing You were a seven days’ wonder. When you came out in the magazines You created considerable stir in… And now you are stale and worn out…
The jewelled steps are already qui… It is so late that the dew soaks m… And I let down the crystal curtai… And watch the moon through the cle…
The rain and the wind, the wind an… They are with us like a disease: They worry the heart, they work th… As they shoulder and clutch at the… And savage the helpless trees.
When you wake in your crib, You, an inch of experience - Vaulted about With the wonder of darkness; Wailing and striving
Time and the Earth - The old Father and Mother - Their teeming accomplished, Their purpose fulfilled, Close with a smile
O My songs, Why do you look so eagerly and so… people’s faces, Will you find your lost dead among…
.Light, light of my eyes, at an ex… And intoxicated, and no servant was leading me, And a minute crowd of small boys c… I do not know what boys,
The greater masters of the commonp… REMBRANDT and good SIR WA… Could paint her all to you: experi… And antique liveliness and pondero… The sweet old roses of her sunken…
Phyllidula and the Spoils of Gouv… Where, Lady, are the days When you could go out in a hired h… Without footmen and equipments? And dine in a soggy, cheap restaur…
You say that I take a good deal u… That I strut in the robes of assu… In a few years no one will remembe… No one will remember the trivial p… The comic detail will be absent.
Sing we for love and idleness, Naught else is worth the having. Though I have been in many a land… There is naught else in living. And I would rather have my sweet,
