#AmericanWriters
Dreamily over the roofs The cold spring rain is falling, Out in the lonely tree A bird is calling, calling. Slowly over the earth
I HAVE been happy two weeks toge… My love is coming home to me, Gold and silver is the weather And smooth as lapis is the sea. The earth has turned its brown to…
Now while my lips are living Their words must stay unsaid, And will my soul remember To speak when I am dead? Yet if my soul remembered
I am afraid, oh I am so afraid! The cold black fear is clutching m… As long ago when they would take t… And leave the little child who wou… Frozen and sleepless at the though…
The city’s all a-shining Beneath a fickle sun, A gay young wind’s a-blowing, The little shower is done. But the rain-drops still are cling…
The darkened street was muffled wi… The falling flakes had made your s… And when we found a shelter from t… Its glamor fell upon us like a blo… The clash of dishes and the viol a…
Impassioned singer of the happy ti… When all the world was waking into… And dew still glistened on the tan… And lingered on the branches of th… Oh peerless singer of the golden r…
I turned the key and opened wide t… To enter my deserted room again, Where thro’ the long hot months th… Was it not lonely when across the… No step was heard, no sudden song…
(To the maiden with the hidden fac… The other maidens raised their eye… Who stumbled in before them when t… Had left him victor, with a victor… I think his eyes with quick hot te…
REMEMBER me as I was then; Turn from me now, but always see The laughing shadowy girl who stoo… At midnight by the flowering tree, With eyes that love had made as br…
Before a lonely shrine Of foam-born Aphrodite, Ungarlanded of vine, Undyed by dripping wine, I brought green bay to twine,
There! See the line of lights, A chain of stars down either side… Why can’t you lift the chain and g… A necklace for my throat? I’d tw… And you could play with it. You…
When Love was born I think he lay Right warm on Venus’ breast, And whiles he smiled and whiles wo… And whiles would take his rest. But always, folded out of sight,
A thousand miles beyond this sun-s… Somewhere the waves creep cool alo… The ebbing tide forsakes the listl… With the old murmur, long and musi… The windy waves mount up and curve…
Oh Loves there are that enter in, And Loves there are that wait, And Loves that sit a-weeping Whose joy will come too late. For some there be that ope their d…