#Americans #Suicide #XIXCentury #XXCentury
The moon is now an opening flower, The sky a cliff of blue. The moon is now a silver rose; Her pollen is the dew. Her pollen is the mist that swings
Once, in the city of Kalamazoo, The gods went walking, two and two… With the friendly phoenix, the sta… The speaking pony and singing lion… For in Kalamazoo in a cottage apa…
The arts are old, old as the stone… From which man carved the sphinx a… Deep are the days the old arts bri… Ten thousand years of yesteryear. She is madonna in an art
I saw Lord Buddha towering by my… Saying: “Once more, good youth, I… Saying: “I bring you my fair Law… And from your withering passion fu… Release from that white hand that…
Though I have watched so many mou… O’er the real dead, in dull earth… Those dead seemed but the shadows… That passed and left me in the sun… Now though you go on smiling in th…
(A Poem Game.) “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “Down cellar,” said the cricket, “I saw a ball last night,
“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
[To be sung to the tune of The… [Bass drum beaten loudly.] Booth led boldly with his big bass… (Are you washed in the blood of th… The Saints smiled gravely and the…
A curse upon each king who leads h… No matter what his plea, to this f… And may it end his wicked dynasty, And may he die in exile and black… If there is vengeance in the Heav…
(IN THE BEGINNING) The sun is a huntress young, The sun is a red, red joy, The sun is an indian girl, Of the tribe of the Illinois.
What the Carpenter Said The moon’s a cottage with a door. Some folks can see it plain. Look, you may catch a glint of lig… A sparkle through the pane,
[Written for a picture] The Youth speaks:—: “Why do you seek the sun In your bubble-crown ascending? Your chariot will melt to mist.
“If I could set the moon upon This table,” said my friend, “Among the standard poets And brouchures without end, And noble prints of old Japan,
The moon’s a holy owl-queen. She keeps them in a jar Under her arm till evening, Then sallies forth to war. She pours the owls upon us.
(A Poem Game.) “And when the Queen of Sheba hear… [The men’s leader rises as he sees… Men’s Leader: The Queen of Sh… [He bows three times.]