#AmericanWriters
To-night I close my eyes and see A strange procession passing me— The years before I saw your face Go by me with a wistful grace; They pass, the sensitive, shy year…
I came from the sunny valleys And sought for the open sea, For I thought in its gray expanse… My peace would come to me. I came at last to the ocean
THE sun was gone, and the moon wa… Over the blue Connecticut hills; The west was rosy, the east was fl… And over my head the swallows rush… This way and that, with changeful…
Send out the singers—let the room… They have not eased my pain nor br… Close out the sun, for I would ha… That I may feel how black the gra… The sun is setting, for the light…
I have loved hours at sea, gray ci… The fragile secret of a flower, Music, the making of a poem That gave me heaven for an hour; First stars above a snowy hill,
I went back to the clanging city, I went back where my old loves sta… But my heart was full of my new lo… My eyes were laughing and unafraid… I met one who had loved me madly
Like some rare queen of old romanc… Who loved the gleam of helm and la… Is she. A harper of King Arthur’s days Should praise her in a hundred lay…
If he could know my songs are all… At silver dawn or in the evening g… Would he not smile and think it bu… If he could know? Or would his heart rejoice and ove…
The sparrows wake beneath the conv… I think I have not slept the whol… But I am old; the aged scarcely k… The times they wake and sleep, for… They breathe the calm of death bef…
SO long as my spirit still Is glad of breath And lifts its plumes of pride In the dark face of death; While I am curious still
My soul is a dark ploughed field In the cold rain; My soul is a broken field Ploughed by pain. Where grass and bending flowers
I have remembered beauty in the ni… Against black silences I waked to… A shower of sunlight over Italy And green Ravello dreaming on her… I have remembered music in the dar…
The dreams of my heart and my mind… Nothing stays with me long, But I have had from a child The deep solace of song; If that should ever leave me,
Out of the window a sea of green t… Lift their soft boughs like the… They beckon and call me, “Come ou… But I cannot answer. I am alone with Weakness and Pain…
You took my empty dreams And filled them every one With tenderness and nobleness, April and the sun. The old empty dreams