#1913 #ABoy'sWill #AmericanWriters
That far-off day the leaves in fli… Were letting in the colder light. A season-ending wind there blew That as it did the forest strew I leaned on with a singing trust
What things for dream there are wh… Moving amond tall haycocks lightly… I enter alone upon the stubbled fi… From which the laborers’ voices la… And in the antiphony of afterglow
For every parcel I stoop down to… I lose some other off my arms and… And the whole pile is slipping, bo… Extremes too hard to comprehend at… Yet nothing I should care to leav…
(Microscopic) A speck that would have been benea… On any but a paper sheet so white Set off across what I had written… And I had idly poised my pen in a…
A dented spider like a snow drop w… On a white Heal-all, holding up a… Like a white piece of lifeless sat… Saw ever curious eye so strange a… Portent in little, assorted death…
The farm house lingers, though ave… With the new city street it has to… But what about the brook That held the house as in an elbow… I ask as one who knew the brook, i…
We asked for rain. It didn’t flas… It didn’t lose its temper at our d… And blow a gale. It didn’t misund… And give us more than our spokesma… And just because we owned to a wis…
She stood against the kitchen sink… Over the sink out through a dusty… At weeds the water from the sink m… She wore her cape; her hat was in… Behind her was confusion in the ro…
Over back where they speak of life… ('You couldn’t call it living, for… There was an old, old house renewe… And in it a piano loudly playing. Out in the plowed ground in the co…
In going from room to room in the… I reached out blindly to save my f… But neglected, however lightly, to… My fingers and close my arms in an… A slim door got in past my guard,
I said to myself almost in prayer, It will start hair raising current… When you give it the livid metal-s… It will make a homicidal roar. It will shake its cast stone reef…
Here further up the mountain slope Than there was every any hope, My father built, enclosed a spring… Strung chains of wall round everyt… Subdued the growth of earth to gra…
God made a beatous garden With lovely flowers strown, But one straight, narrow pathway That was not overgrown. And to this beauteous garden
Why Tityrus! But you’ve forgotten… I’m Meliboeus the potato man, The one you had the talk with, you… Here on this very campus years ago… Hard times have struck me and I’m…
I came an errand one cloud-blowing… To a slab-built, black-paper-cover… Of one room and one window and one… The only dwelling in a waste cut o… A hundred square miles round it in…