#AmericanWriters
The shadowy boy of night Crosses the dusking land; He sows his poppy-seeds With steady, gentle hand. The shadowy boy of night
Great Kings were dust and all the… Did my harp’s taut and burnished s… The fragrance of dead ladies’ love… Blew never down but for my lute.
In your Curled petals what ghosts Of blue headlands and seas, What perfumed immortal breath sigh… Of Greece.
But me They cannot touch, Old age and death. .the strange And ignominious end of old Dead folk!
Every day, Every day, Tell the hours By their shadows, By their shadows.
‘WHY do You thus devise Evil against her?’ ‘For that She is beautiful, delicate; Therefore.’
If it Were lighter touch Than petal of flower resting On grass, oh still too heavy it we… Too heavy!
The sun is warm today, O Romulus, and on Thine older Palentine the birds Still sing.
Not spring’s Thou art, but hers, Most cool, most virginal, Winter’s, with thy faint breath, t… Rose-tinged.
No guile? Nay, but so strangely He moves among us. . Not this Man but Barabbas! Release to us Barabbas!
With night’s Dim veil and blue I will cover my eyes, I will bind close my eyes that are So weary.
The morning is new and the skies a… The day cometh in with the sun and… Hasten, belov’ed! For see, while you were yet sleepi… The cool and virgin feet of dawn w…
I have minded me Of the noon-day brightness, And the cricket’s drowsy Singing in the sunshine. . I have minded me
Three grey women walk with me Fate and Grief and Memory. My fate brought grief; my grief mu… With me through Eternity, Such thy power, memory.
Burdock, Blue aconite, And thistle and thorn. .of these Singing I wreathe my pretty wreat… O’death.