#Americans #XXCentury
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…
Come, or the stellar tide will sli… Eastward avoid the hour of its dec… Now! for the needle trembles in my… Here we have had our vantage, the… Here we have had our day, your day…
I had been seen in the shade, recu… The water dripping from Belleroph… Alba, your kings, and the realm yo… have constructed with such industr… Shall be yawned out on my lyre wit…
THE NEO-COMMUNE Manhood of England, Dougth of the Shires, Want Russia to save ‘em And answer their prayers.
In vain have I striven, to teach my heart to bow; In vain have I said to him ‘There be many singers greater tha… But his answer cometh, as winds an…
Lady of rich allure, Queen of the spring’s embrace, Your arms are long like boughs of… Mid laugh—broken streams, spirit o… Breath of the poppy flower,
Red knights, brown bishops, bright… Striking the board, falling in str… colour. Reaching and striking in angles, holding lines in one colour.
Candidia has taken a new lover And three poets are gone into mour… The first has written a long elegy… To ‘Chloris chaste and cold,’ his… The second has written a sonnet
I am a grave poetic hen That lays poetic eggs And to enhance my temperament A little quiet begs. We make the yolk philosophy,
O strange face there in the glass! O ribald company, O saintly host, O sorrow-swept my fool, What answer? O ye myriad That strive? and play and pass,
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,
There’s a regret So grinding, so immitigably sad, Remorse thereby feels tolerant, ev… Do you not know it yet? For deeds undone
The good Bellaires Do not understand the conduct of t… In fact they understood them so ba… That they have had to cross the C… Nine lawyers, four counsels, five…
For a moment she rested against me Like a swallow half blown to the w… And they talk of Swinburne’s wome… And the shepherdess meeting with… And the harlots of Baudelaire.
A poor clerk I, 'Arnaut the less’… And because I have small mind to… Day long, long day cooped on a sto… A-jumbling o’ figures for Maitre… I ha’ taken to rambling the South…