#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters
The first time I died, I walked m… I followed the file of limping day… I held me tall, with my head flung… But I dared not look on the new m… I dared not look on the sweet youn…
There was one a-riding grand On a tall brown mare, And a fine gold band He brought me there. A little, gold band
By the time you swear you’re his, Shivering and sighing, And he vows his passion is Infinite, undying— Lady, make a note of this:
This I say, and this I know: Love has seen the last of me. Love’s a trodden lane to woe, Love’s a path to misery. This I know, and knew before,
Should they whisper false of you. Never trouble to deny; Should the words they say be true, Weep and storm and swear they lie.
When I was young and bold and str… Oh, right was right, and wrong was… My plume on high, my flag unfurled… I rode away to right the world. “Come out, you dogs, and fight!” s…
Ghosts of all my lovely sins, Who attend too well my pillow, Gay the wanton rain begins; Hide the limp and tearful willow. Turn aside your eyes and ears,
And now I have another lad! No longer need you tell How all my nights are slow and sad For loving you too well. His ways are not your wicked ways,
In April, in April, My one love came along, And I ran the slope of my high hi… To follow a thread of song. His eyes were hard as porphyry
Oh, when I flung my heart away, The year was at its fall. I saw my dear, the other day, Beside a flowering wall; And this was all I had to say:
Travel, trouble, music, art, A kiss, a frock, a rhyme– I never said they feed my heart, But still they pass my time.
A single flow’r he sent me, since… All tenderly his messenger he chos… Deep-hearted, pure, with scented d… One perfect rose. I knew the language of the flowere…
They say of me, and so they should… It’s doubtful if I come to good. I see acquaintances and friends Accumulating dividends, And making enviable names
He will love you presently If you be the way you be. Send your heart a-skittering. He will stoop, and lift the thing. Be your dreams as thread, to tease
If, with the literate, I am Impelled to try an epigram, I never seek to take the credit; We all assume that Oscar said it.