#Americans
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.
Towards the Noel that morte saiso… (Christ make the shepherds’ homage… Then when the grey wolves everycho… Drink of the winds their chill sma… And lap o’ the snows food’s guered…
Did I ’ear it ’arf in a doze: The Co-ops was a goin’ somewhere, Did I 'ear it while pickin’ 'ops; How they better start takin’ care, That the papers were gettin’ toget…
There is a truce among the gods, Kore is seen in the North Skirting the blue-gray sea In gilded and russet mantle. The corn has again it’s mother and…
What is to come we know not. But… That what has been was good—was go… Better to hide, and best of all to… We are the masters of the days tha… We have lived, we have loved, we h…
Erinna is a model parent, Her children have never discovered… Lalage is also a model parent, Her offspring are fat and happy.
.Light, light of my eyes, at an ex… And intoxicated, and no servant was leading me, And a minute crowd of small boys c… I do not know what boys,
Let some new lying ass, Who knows not what is or was, Talk economics, Pay for his witless noise, Get the kid nice new toys,
For God, our God is a gallant foe That playeth behind the veil. I have loved my God as a child at… That seeketh deep bosoms for rest, I have loved my God as a maid to…
Good God! They say you are risqué… O canzonetti! We who went out into the four A.… Composing our albas, We who shook off our dew with the…
The girl in the tea shop Is not so beautiful as she was, The August has worn against her. She does not get up the stairs so… Yes, she also will turn middle—age…
No, no! Go from me. I have left h… I will not spoil my sheath with le… For my surrounding air hath a new… Slight are her arms, yet they have… And left me cloaked as with a gauz…
Put of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pol… I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the full clutch of circumstance…
A Hymn to the Dope Goddess of the murmuring courts, Nicotine, my Nicotine, Houri of the mystic sports, trailing—robed in gabardine,
What have I done for you, England, my England? What is there I would not do, England, my own? With your glorious eyes austere,
