#AmericanWriters
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,
Alba When the nightingale to his mate Sings day-long and night late My love and I keep state In bower,
I had over prepared the event, that much was ominous. With middle—ageing care I had laid out just the right book… I had almost turned down the pages…
Why does the horse-faced lady of j… Walk down Longacre reciting Swinb… Why does the small child in the so… Crawl in the very black gutter ben… Why does the really handsome young…
The spring, my dear, Is no longer spring. Does the blackbird sing What he sang last year? Are the skies the old
FROM THE PROVENCAL O… Lady, since you care nothing for m… And since you have shut me away fr… Causelessly, I know not wnere to go seeking,
The thought of what America would… If the Classics had a wide circul… Troubles my sleep, The thought of what America, The thought of what America,
The petals fall in the fountain, the orange-coloured rose-leaves, Their ochre clings to the stone.
WIND Scarce and thin, scarce and thin The government’s excuse, Never at all will they do Aught of the slightest use.
Mr. Styrax 1 Mr. Hecatomb Styrax, the owner of… A 'blue’ and a climber of mountain… He being at that age a virgin, The term Virgo’ being made male i…
Red knights, brown bishops, bright… Striking the board, falling in str… colour. Reaching and striking in angles, holding lines in one colour.
Shades of Callimachus, Coan ghost… It is in your grove I would walk, I who come first from the clear fo… Bringing the Grecian orgies into… and the dance into Italy.
I even I, am he who knoweth the r… Through the sky, and the wind ther… I have beheld the Lady of Life, I, even I, who fly with the swall… Green and gray is her raiment,
Your mind and you are our Sargass… London has swept about you this sc… And bright ships left you this or… Ideas, old gossip, oddments of all… Strange spars of knowledge and dim…
