#Americans
When I carefully consider the cur… I am compelled to conclude That man is the superior animal. When I consider the curious habit… I confess, my friend, I am puzzle…
For the seven lakes, and by no man… Rain; empty river; a voyage, Fire from frozen cloud, heavy rain… Under the cabin roof was one lante… The reeds are heavy; bent;
The gods are dead? Perhaps they a… Living at least in Lempriere unde… The wise, the fair, the awful, the… Are one and all. I like to think,… In some still land of lilacs and t…
Chant for the Transmutation of Me… Sail of Claustra, Aelis, Azalais… As you move among the bright trees… As your voices, under the larches… Make a clear sound,
With usura hath no man a house of… each block cut smooth and well fit… that design might cover their face… with usura hath no man a painted paradise on…
DOLE THE BELL! BELL THE… Whom can these duds attack? Soapy Sime? Slipp’ry Mac? Naught but a shirt is there Such as the fascists wear,
If all the grief and woe and bitte… All dolour, ill and every evil cha… That ever came upon this grieving… Were set together they would seem… Against the death of the young En…
Listen, my children, and you shall… The midnight activities of Whats-… Scarcely a general now known to fa… Can tell you of that famous day an… When feeble Mr. Asquith, getting…
“Time’s bitter flood”! Oh, that’s… But where’s the old friend hasn’t… Or slacked his hand-grip when you… I know your circle and can fairly… What you have kept and what you’ve…
Let some new lying ass, Who knows not what is or was, Talk economics, Pay for his witless noise, Get the kid nice new toys,
Though thou well dost wish me ill Audiart, Audiart, Where thy bodice laces start As ivy fingers clutching through Its crevices,
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…
May I for my own self song’s trut… Journey’s jargon, how I in harsh… Hardship endured oft. Bitter breast—cares have I abided… Known on my keel many a care’s hol…
For God, our God is a gallant foe That playeth behind the veil. I have loved my God as a child at… That seeketh deep bosoms for rest, I have loved my God as a maid to…
At Rochecoart, Where the hills part in three ways, And three valleys, full of winding… Fork out to south and north,
