Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it merely

Light hearted William twirled his November moustaches and, half dressed, looked from the bedroom window upon the spring weather.

A rumpled sheet Of brown paper About the length And apparent bulk Of a man was

I have discovered that most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see t… the domes of the Church of the Paulist Fathers in Weehawken

First he said: It is the woman in us That makes us write– Let us acknowledge it– Men would be silent.

contend in a sea which the land pa… shielding them from the too—heavy… of an ungoverned ocean which when… tortures the biggest hulls, the be… to pit against its beatings, and s…

Why pretend to remember the weather two years back? Why not? Listen close then repeat after others what they have just said and win a reputation for vivacity. Oh feed upon petals o...

The crowd at the ball game is moved uniformly by a spirit of uselessness which delights them— all the exciting detail

Well, Lizzie Anderson! seventeen… the baby hard to find a father for… What will the good Father in Heav… to the local judge if he do not so… A little two-pointed smile and—pou…

beauty is a shell from the sea where she rules triumphant till love has had its way with her scallops and

Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…

Of asphodel, that greeny flower, like a buttercup upon its branching stem— save that it’s green and wooden— I come, my sweet,

Here it is spring again and I still a young man! I am late at my singing. The sparrow with the black rain on… has been at his cadenzas for two w…