#AmericanWriters
O LOVELY chance, what can I do To give my gratefulness to you? You rise between myself and me With a wise persistency; I would have broken body and soul,
There never was a mood of mine, Gay or heart-broken, luminous or d… But you could ease me of its fever And give it back to me more beutif… In many another soul I broke the…
A half-hour more and you will lean To gather me close in the old swee… But oh, to the woman over the sea Who will come at the close of day? A half-hour more and I will hear
You bound strong sandals on my fee… You gave me bread and wine, And sent me under sun and stars, For all the world was mine. Oh, take the sandals off my feet,
For W. P. The little park was filled with pe… The walks were carpeted with snow, But every iron gate was locked. Lest if we entered, peace would go…
My heart has grown rich with the p… I have less need now than when I… To share myself with every comer Or shape my thoughts into words wi… It is one to me that they come or…
I understood the rest too well, And all their thoughts have come t… Clear as grey sea-weed in the swel… Of a sunny shallow sea. But you I never understood,
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,
Bring me the roses white and red, And take the laurel leaves away; Yea, wreathe the roses round my he… That wearies ‘neath the crown of b… ’We searched the wintry forests th…
Was ever any face like this before… So light a veiling for the soul wi… So pure and yet so pitiful for sin… They say the soul will pass the H… And yearning upward, learn creatio…
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,
Oh, there are eyes that he can see… And hands to make his hands rejoic… But to my lover I must be Only a voice. Oh, there are breasts to bear his…
This is the quiet hour; the theate… Have gathered in their crowds, and… The million lights blaze on for fe… Robbing the sky of stars that shou… A woman waits with bag and shabby…
Her voice is like clear water That drips upon a stone In forests far and silent Where Quiet plays alone. Her thoughts are like the lotus
WE will never walk again As we used to walk at night, Watching our shadows lengthen Under the gold street-light When the snow was new and white.