#AmericanWriters
They said he sent his love to me, They wouldn’t put it in my hand, And when I asked them where it wa… They said I couldn’t understand. I thought they must have hidden it…
All beauty calls you to me, and yo… Past twice a thousand miles of shi… To reach me. You are as the wind… Here on the ship’s sun-smitten top… With only light between the heaven…
I must have passed the crest a whi… And now I am going down— Strange to have crossed the crest… But the brambles were always grabb… All the morning I thought how pro…
Oh Litis, little slave, why will… These long Egyptian noons bend do… Bowed like the yarrow with a yello… There, lift your eyes no man has e… Dark eyes that wait like faggots f…
Here in the teeth of this triumpha… That shakes the naked shadows on t… Making a key-board of the earth to… From clattering tree and hedge a s… Bear witness for me that I loved…
Lo, I am happy, for my eyes have… Joy glowing here before me, face t… His wings were arched above me for… I kissed his lips, no bitter came… The air is vibrant where his feet…
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 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…
Blue dust of evening over my city, Over the ocean of roofs and the ta… Where the window-lights, myriads a… Bloom from the walls like climbing…
When I talk with other men I always think of you— Your words are keener than their w… And they are gentler, too. When I look at other men,
Oh would I were the roses, that l… The heavy burning roses she touche… Dear hands that hold the roses, wh… Oh leave, oh leave the roses, and… She draws the heart from out them,…
A wind is blowing over my soul, I hear it cry the whole night thro… Is there no peace for me on earth Except with you? Alas, the wind has made me wise,
The dearest child in all the world… Should have the dearest songs, And that is why this little book To David-Boy belongs.
Across the dimly lighted room The violin drew wefts of sound, Airily they wove and wound And glimmered gold against the glo… I watched the music turn to light,
It will not change now After so many years; Life has not broken it With parting or tears; Death will not alter it,
