#Americans #Women
O Mother of that heap of clay, so… Now do you stare at death, woman,… Now do you long to fare afar, and… Where he must wander all alone, hi… But I now, but I now—
How wild, how witch-like weird tha… That the insensate rock dared drea… And take to bursting out and burge… Oh, long ago—yo ho!— And wearing green! How stark and…
BEHOLD, I send thee to the heig… My brother! Let thine eyes awake… As morning dew, within whose glowi… Is mirrored half a world; and list… Till in thine ears, famished to ke…
Have you forgotten—you, the chief, The art-director, president, What not, of the establishment— Forgot how for a moment brief The whole show, all our strife and…
The cactus in the desert stands Like time’s inviolate sentinel, Watching the sun-washed waste of s… Lest they their ancient secrets te… And the lost lore of mournful land…
THE lady in front of me in the ca… With little red coils close over h… Is talking with her friend; And the circle of ostrich foam aro… Curving over like a wave,
Would you not be in Tryon Now that the spring is here, When mocking-birds are praising The fresh, the blossomy year? Look—on the leafy carpet
E. H. M. Nov. 17th, 1890—Feb. 13th, 1904 Still he lies, Pale, wan, and strangely wise. Under the white coverlet
He loved her and he was untrue— Untrue he was, let loved her still… For out of nether darkness drew The winds that lashed his wanderin… She lived in joy all unaware,
As I lie roofed in, screened in, From the pattering rain, The summer rain— As I lie Snug and dry,
The patter of a baby’s feet Upon the floor, His babble at the door— Ah, these are sounds too sweet, to… Blue sky, save me from tears!
The forest was a shrine for her, A temple richly dressed; And worshippers the tall trees wer… Each to his prayer addressed. Scarce dared I lift my eyes, or s…
Queen Karomana, slim you stand, In bronze with little flecks of go… Queen Karomana. O royal lady, lift your hand, Shatter the stone museum cold,
I LOVE my life, but not too well To give it to thee like a flower, So it may pleasure thee to dwell Deep in its perfume but an hour. I love my life, but not too well.
The little world span round and ro… Singing along her sunny ways, And all the glory she unwound She gave to him for joy and praise… And he, whom lavish morning met