#Americans
.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,
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 wan sun westers, faint and slo… The eastern distance glimmers gray… An eerie haze comes creeping low Across the little, lonely bay; And from the sky-line far away
BE in me as the eternal moods of the bleak wind, and not As transient things are— gaiety of flowers. Have me in the strong loneliness
“'Tis but a vague, invarious delig… As gold that rains about some buri… As the fine flakes, When tourists frolicking Stamp on his roof or in the glazin…
The sky-like limpid eyes, The circular infant’s face, The stiffness from spats to collar Never relaxing into grace; The heavy memories of Horeb, Sina…
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…
We shall surely die: Must we needs grow old? Grow old and cold, And we know not why? O, the By-and-By,
O helpless few in my country, remn… Artists broken against her, A-stray, lost in the villages, Mistrusted, spoken-against, Lovers of beauty, starved,
DIFFERENCE OF OPINION W… LYGDAMUS Tell me the truths which you hear… Lygdamus, And may the bought yoke of a mistr…
Who am I to condemn you, O Dives… I who am as much embittered With poverty As you are with useless riches?
The Past was goodly once, and yet… The best of it we know is that it’… Dwindled and faded quite, perished… Nothing is left at last of what on… Coming back like a ghost, staring…
“Pan is dead. Great Pan is dead. Ah! bow your heads, ye maidens all… And weave ye him his coronal.” “There is no summer in the leaves, And withered are the sedges;
Suddenly discovering in the eyes o… Normande cocotte The eyes of the very learned Brit…
The tree has entered my hands, The sap has ascended my arms, The tree has grown in my breast— Downward, The branches grow out of me, like…