A wolf, whose gettings from the flocks Began to be but few, Bethought himself to play the fox In character quite new. A shepherd's hat and coat he took, A cudgel for a crook,...
By-gone a thousand years of war, The wearers of the fleece And wolves at last made peace; Which both appear'd the better for; For if the wolves had now and then...
With her fair face she made my heaven, Beneath whose stars and moon and sun I worshiped, praying, having striven, For wealth through which she might be won. And yet she had no soul: A woman...
An angel was tired of heaven, as he lounged in the golden street; His halo was tilted sideways, and his harp lay mute at his feet; So the Master stooped in His pity, and gave him a pass to go,...
What will I say when face to face with God My naked soul shall come, seared with the stain That men call sin? Why, God will understand; He knew my pitiful story long before...
The Woman at the Washtub, She works till fall of night; With soap and suds and soda Her hands are wrinkled white. Her diamonds are the sparkles The copper-fire supplies; Her opals are the bubbles...
I hate that saying, old and savage, "'Tis nothing but a woman drowning." That's much, I say. What grief more keen should have edge Than loss of her, of all our joys the crowning?...
A stranger, I threaded sunken-hearted A lamp-lit crowd; And anon there passed me a soul departed, Who mutely bowed. In my far-off youthful years I had met her,...
"Why do you stand in the dripping rye, Cold-lipped, unconscious, wet to the knee, When there are firesides near?" said I. "I told him I wished him dead," said she.
Why have you come? to see me in my shame? A thing to spit on, to despise and scorn? And then to ask me! You, by whom was torn And then cast by, like some vile rag, my name!...
My trade was old when the world was new, Ere the pyramids rose by the Nile Men quitted their wives, and gave me their goods For the warmth of my kiss, and my smile. For never was wife who could hold her man...
The woman with jewels sits in the cafe, Spraying light like a fountain. Diamonds glitter on her bulbous fingers And on her arms, great as thighs, Diamonds gush from her ear-lobes over the goitrous throat....
It is up from out the alleys, from the alleys dark and vile, It is up from out the alleys I have struggled for a while, Just to breathe the breath of Heaven ere my devil drags me down,...
'Our little babe,' each said, 'shall be Like unto thee' - 'Like unto thee!' 'Her mother's' - 'Nay, his father's' - 'eyes,' 'Dear curls like thine' - but each replies, 'As thine, all thine, and nought of me.'...
I wish that I could understand The moving marvel of my Hand; I watch my fingers turn and twist, The supple bending of my wrist, The dainty touch of finger-tip, The steel intensity of grip;...
Of all the fountains that poets sing, Crystal, thermal, or mineral spring, Ponce de Leon's Fount of Youth, Wells with bottoms of doubtful truth, In short, of all the springs of Time...
Come, if thou'rt cold to Summer's charms, Her clouds of green, her starry flowers, And let this bird, this wandering bird, Make his fine wonder yours; He, hiding in the leaves so green,...