#AmericanWriters
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…
WHEN they see my songs They will sigh and say, ‘Poor soul, wistful soul, Lonely night and day.’ They will never know
He said: “In the winter dusk When the pavements were gleaming w… I walked thru a dingy street Hurried, harassed,
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.
ATOMS as old as stars, Mutation on mutation, Millions and millions of cells Dividing yet still the same, From air and changing earth,
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…
Were you a Greek when all the wor… Before the weary years that pass a… Had scattered all the temples on t… Before the moss to marble columns… I think your snowy tunic must have…
I am a cloud in the heaven’s heigh… The stars are lit for my delight, Tireless and changeful, swift and… I cast my shadow on hill and sea— But why do the pines on the mounta…
When April bends above me And finds me fast asleep Dust need not keep the secret A live heart died to keep. When April tells the thrushes,
The wide, bright temple of the wor… And entered from the dizzy infinit… That I might kneel and worship th… Leaving the singing stars their ce… Of silver music sound on orbed sou…
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 am not sorry for my soul That it must go unsatisfied, For it can live a thousand times, Eternity is deep and wide. I am not sorry for my soul,
Here in the velvet stillness The wide sown fields fall to the f… Sleeping in starlight. . . . A year ago we walked in the jangli… Together . . . . forgetful.
I love too much; I am a river Surging with spring that seeks the… I am too generous a giver, Love will not stoop to drink of me… His feet will turn to desert place…
Life has loveliness to sell, All beautiful and splendid things, Blue waves whitened on a cliff, Soaring fire that sways and sings, And children’s faces looking up,