#Americans
You’d have men’s hearts up from th… And tell their secrets, Messire C… Rigkt enough? Then read between t… Solve me the riddle, for you know… Bertrans, En Bertrans, left a fin…
The petals fall in the fountain, the orange-coloured rose-leaves, Their ochre clings to the stone.
The sands are alive with sunshine, The bathers lounge and throng, And out in the bay a bugle Is lilting a gallant song. The clouds go racing eastward,
(Abbreviated from the conversation… Over the flat slope of St Eloi A wide wall of sandbags. Night, In the silence desultory men
The rustling of the silk is discon… Dust drifts over the court-yard, There is no sound of foot-fall, an… Scurry into heaps and lie still, And she the rejoicer of the heart…
She passed and left no quiver in t… Moving among the trees, and clingi… in the air she severed, Fanning the grass she walked on th… Grey olive leaves beneath a rain-c…
For the seven lakes, and by no man… Rain; empty river; a voyage, Fire from frozen cloud, heavy rain… Under the cabin roof was one lante… The reeds are heavy; bent;
Come, or the stellar tide will sli… Eastward avoid the hour of its dec… Now! for the needle trembles in my… Here we have had our vantage, the… Here we have had our day, your day…
Simon Zelotes speaketh it somewhi… Ha’ we lost the goodliest fere o’… For the priests and the gallows tr… Aye lover he was of brawny men, O’ ships and the open sea.
The black panther treads at my sid… And above my fingers There float the petal-like flames. The milk-white girls Unbend from the holly-trees,
Vex not thou the banker’s mind (His what?) with a show of sense, Vex it not, Willie, his mind, Or pierce its pretence On the supposition that it ever
Who, who will be the next man to e… Love interferes with fidelities; The gods have brought shame on the… Each man wants the pomegranate for… Amiable and harmonious people are…
The West a glimmering lake of lig… A dream of pearly weather, The first of stars is burning whit… The star we watch together. Is April dead? The unresting year
Green arsenic smeared on an egg—wh… Crushed strawberries! Come, let u…
(1907) 1 am homesick after mine own kind, Oh I know that there are folk abo… But I am homesick after mine own… ‘These sell our pictures’! Oh wel…