#Americans #XXCentury
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…
Lord God of heaven that with merc… Th’alternate prayer wheel of the n… Eternal hath to thee, and in whose… Our days as rain drops in the sea… As bright white drops upon a leade…
The West a glimmering lake of lig… A dream of pearly weather, The first of stars is burning whit… The star we watch together. Is April dead? The unresting year
Earth’s winter cometh And I being part of all And sith the spirit of all moveth… I must needs bear earth’s winter Drawn cold and grey with hours
The nightingale has a lyre of gold… The lark’s is a clarion-call, And the blackbird plays but a boxw… But I love him best of all. For his song is all of the joy of…
No, no! Go from me. I have left h… I will not spoil my sheath with le… For my surrounding air hath a new… Slight are her arms, yet they have… And left me cloaked as with a gauz…
The light became her grace and dwe… Blind eyes and shadows that are fo… Lo, how the light doth melt us int… The broken sunlight for a healm sh… Who hath my heart in jurisdiction.
There is no land like England Where banks rise day by day, There are no banks like English b… To make the people pay. There is no such land of castles
Empty are the ways, Empty are the ways of this land And the flowers Bend over with heavy heads. They bend in vain.
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,
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…
When I behold how black, immortal… Drips from my deathless pen —ah, w… Why should we stop at all for what… There is enough in what I chance… It is enough that we once came tog…
When I but think upon the great d… And turn my mind upon that splendi… Lo! I do curse my strength And blame the sun his gladness; For that the one is dead
Under a stagnant sky, Gloom out of gloom uncoiling into… The River, jaded and forlorn, Welters and wanders wearily—wretch… Yet in and out among the ribs
We’ll go no more a-roving by the l… November glooms are barren beside… The summer flowers are faded, the… We’ll go no more a-roving, lest wo… We’ll go no more a-roving by the l…
