#AmericanWriters
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.
My name is Nunty Cormorant And my finance is sound, I lend you Englishmen hot air At one and three the pound. I lend you Englishmen hot air
I stood still and was a tree amid… Knowing the truth of things unseen… Of Daphne and the laurel bow And that god—feasting couple old that grew elm—oak amid the wold.
O God, O Venus, O Mercury, patr… Give me in due time, I beseech yo… With the little bright boxes piled up neatly upon the shelves And the loose fragrant cavendish
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…
Gone while your tastes were keen t… Gone where the grey winds call to… By that high fencer, even Death, Struck of the blade that no man pa… Such is your fence, one saith,
And the days are not full enough And the nights are not full enough And life slips by like a field mou… Not shaking the grass
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,
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…
Turned from the 'eau-forte Par Jaquemart’ To the strait head Of Messalina: ‘His true Penelope
The narrow streets cut into the wi… Dark oxen, white horses, drag on the seven coaches with out… The coaches are perfumed wood, The jewelled chair is held up at t…
I sat on the Dogana’s steps For the gondolas cost too much, th… And there were not “those girls”,… And the Buccentoro twenty yards o… And the lit cross—beams, that year…
While the west is paling Starshine is begun. While the dusk is failing Glimmers up the sun. So, till darkness cover
FROM THE ITALIAN OF LE… Such wast thou, Who art now But buried dust and rusted skeleto… Above the bones and mire,
Where forlorn sunsets flare and fa… On desolate sea and lonely sand, Out of the silence and the shade What is the voice of strange comma… Calling you still, as friend calls…