#AmericanWriters
Would that by Hindu magic we beca… Dark monks of jeweled India long… Sitting at Prince Siddartha’s fee… The foolishness of gold and love a… The gospel of the Great Renunciat…
Upon her breast her hands and hair Were tangled all together. The moon of June forbade me not— The golden night time weather In balmy sighs commanded me
Even the shrewd and bitter, Gnarled by the old world’s greed, Cherished the stranger softly Seeing his utter need. Shelter and patient hearing,
Would that in body and spirit Sha… Visible emperor of the deeds of T… With Justice still the genius of… Giving each man his due, each pass… Impartial as the rain from Heaven…
We find your soft Utopias as whit… As new-cut bread, and dull as life… O, scribes who dare forget how wil… How human breasts adore alarum bel… You house us in a hive of prigs an…
The dim-winged spirits of the nigh… Do fear and serve me well. They creep from out the hedges of The garden where I dwell. I wave my arms across the walk.
The moon is but a candle-glow That flickers thro’ the gloom: The starry space, a castle hall: And Earth, the children’s room, Where all night long the old trees…
This doll upon the topmost bough, This playmate-gift, in Christmas… Was taken down and brought to me One sleety night most comfortless. Her hair was gold, her dolly-sash
“Bring me soft song,” said Aladdi… “This tailor-shop sings not at all… Chant me a word of the twilight, Of roses that mourn in the fall. Bring me a song like hashish
In which he is remembered in simil… the king’s jester, who died when H… Yorick is dead. Boy Hamlet walks… Beneath the battlements of Elsino… Where are those oddities and caper…
What is my mast? A pen. What are my sails? Ten crescent m… What is my sea? A bottle of ink. Where do I go? To heaven again. What do I eat? The amaranth flowe…
A POEM DEDICATED T… Galahad . . . soldier that perishe… Our hearts are breaking with shame… Galahad . . . knight who perished… Teach us to fight for immaculate w…
The flower-fed buffaloes of the sp… In the days of long ago, Ranged where the locomotives sing And the prarie flowers lie low: The tossing, blooming, perfumed gr…
The mouse that gnawed the oak-tree… Began his task in early life. He kept so busy with his teeth He had no time to take a wife. He gnawed and gnawed through sun a…
I. A NEGRO SERMON:—SI… (To be read in your own variety… Legree’s big house was white and g… His cotton-fields were the best to… He had strong horses and opulent c…
