#AmericanWriters
Was that his step that sounded on… Was that his knock I heard upon t… I grow so tired I almost cease to… And yet I would that he might com… It was the wind I heard, that moc…
Beside an ebbing northern sea While stars awaken one by one, We walk together, I and he. He woos me with an easy grace That proves him only half sincere;
There is no lord within my heart, Left silent as an empty shrine Where rose and myrtle intertwine, Within a place apart. No god is there of carven stone
In my heart the old love Struggled with the new; It was ghostly waking All night thru. Dear things, kind things,
The birds are all a-building, They say the world’s a-flower, And still I linger lonely Within a barren bower. I weave a web of fancies
There will come soft rain and the… And swallows circling with their s… And frogs in the pools singing at… And wild plum trees in tremulous w… Robins will wear their feathery fi…
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…
I have come the selfsame path To the selfsame door, Years have left the roses there Burning as before While I watch them in the wind
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…
If I should see your eyes again, I know how far their look would go… Back to a morning in the park With sapphire shadows on the snow. Or back to oak trees in the spring
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 saw her in a Broadway car, The woman I might grow to be; I felt my lover look at her And then turn suddenly to me. Her hair was dull and drew no ligh…
I hoped that he would love me, And he has kissed my mouth, But I am like a stricken bird That cannot reach the south. For though I know he loves me,
The faery forest glimmered Beneath an ivory moon, The silver grasses shimmered Against a faery tune. Beneath the silken silence
I went out on an April morning All alone, for my heart was high, I was a child of the shining meado… I was a sister of the sky. There in the windy flood of mornin…