#AmericanWriters
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,
When we come home at night and clo… Standing together in the shadowy r… Safe in our own love and the gentl… Glad of familiar wall and chair an… Glad to leave far below the clangi…
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…
SUN-SWEPT beaches with a light… From the immense blue circle of th… And the soft thunder where long wa… These were the same for Sappho as… Two thousand years’much has gone…
Your face is set against a fervent… Before the thirsty hills that seve… Return the sun’s hot glory, gold o… Where Agamemnon and Cassandra lie… Your eyes are blind whose light sh…
What do I care, in the dreams and… That my songs do not show me at al… For they are a fragrance, and I a… I am an answer, they are only a ca… But what do I care, for love will…
Your lines that linger for us down… Like sparks that tell the glory of… Still keep alight the splendor of… And living still, they sting us in… Sole perfect singer that the world…
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…
The shining line of motors, The swaying motor-bus, The prancing dancing horses Are passing by for us. The sunlight on the steeple,
The winds have grown articulate in… And voiced again the wail of ancie… That smote upon the winds of long… The cries of Trojan women as they… The quivering moan of pale Androm…
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.
Look back with longing eyes and kn… Lift me up in your love as a light… Let our flight be far in sun or wi… But what if I heard my first love… Hold me on your heart as the brave…
Out of the delicate dream of the d… Veiled in the violet folds of the… Softly the dream grows awakening—s… Splashes of crimson, the gay bouga… High in the infinite blue of its h…
DAY, you have bruised and beaten… As rain beats down the bright, pro… Beaten my body, bruised my soul, Left me nothing lovely or whole— Yet I have wrested a gift from yo…
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…