#AmericanWriters
I. THE VOICE OF THE… 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…
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…
I. SPEAK NOW FOR PEACE<… Lady of Light, and our best woman… Stand now for peace, (though anger… Though naught but smoke and flame… Lady of Light, speak, though you…
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.
The Moon’s the North Wind’s cook… He bites it, day by day, Until there’s but a rim of scraps That crumble all away. The South Wind is a baker.
Star of my heart, I follow from a… Sweet Love on high, lead on where… Where Time is not, and only dream… Star from of old, the Magi-Kings… And a foolish Saxon seeks the man…
I opened the ink-well and smoke fi… The smoke formed the giant frog-ca… His web feet left dreadful slime t… He had hammer and nails that he la… He sprawled on the table, claw-han…
Lady of Light, and our best woman… Stand now for peace, (though anger… Though naught but smoke and flame… Lady of Light, speak, though you… Though your voice may seem as a do…
Think not that incense-smoke has h… My friends, the incense-time has b… Creed upon creed, cult upon cult s… Shrine after shrine grow gray bene… And mountain-boulders in our aged…
[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…
This poem is intended as a description of a sort of Blashfield mural painting on the sky. To be sung to the tune of Yankee Doodle, yet in a slower, more orotund fashion. It is presum...
We are the smirched. Queen Honor… We slept thro’ wars where Honor c… We were faint-hearted. Honor was… We kept a silence Honor could not… Yet this late day we make a song t…
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,
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
St. Francis, Buddha, Tolstoi, an… Friends, if you four, as pilgrims,… Returned, the hate of earth once m… And walked upon the water and the… If you, with words celestial, stop…