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George Sylvester Viereck: Wanderers
WanderersGeorge Sylvester ViereckSweet is the highroad when the skylarks call, When we and Love go rambling through the land. But shall we still walk gayly, hand in hand, At the road's…George Sterling: The Ashes in the Sea
The Ashes in the SeaN. M. F.George SterlingWhither, with blue and pleading eyes, — Whither, with cheeks that held the light Of winter's dawn in cloudless skies, Evadne, was thy flight?Such…George Sterling: The Black Vulture
The Black VultureGeorge SterlingAloof upon the day's immeasured dome, He holds unshared the silence of the sky. Far down his bleak, relentless eyes descry The eagle's empire and the…George Sterling: Spring in Carmel
Spring in CarmelGeorge SterlingO'er Carmel fields in the springtime the sea-gulls follow the plow. White, white wings on the blue above! White were your brow and breast, O Love! But I…George Edward Woodberry: Comrades
ComradesGeorge Edward WoodberryWhere are the friends that I knew in my Maying, In the days of my youth, in the first of my roaming? We were dear; we were leal; O, far we went straying; Now…George Sterling: The Dust Dethroned
The Dust DethronedGeorge SterlingSargon is dust, Semiramis a clod! In crypts profaned the moon at midnight peers; The owl upon the Sphinx hoots in her ears, And scant and sear the desert…George Cabot Lodge: Exordium
ExordiumGeorge Cabot LodgeSpeak! said my soul, be stern and adequate; The sunset falls from Heaven, the year is late, Love waits with fallen tresses at thy gate And mourns for perished…George Sterling: The First Food
The First FoodGeorge SterlingMother, in some sad evening long ago, From thy young breast my groping lips were taken, Their hunger stilled, so soon again to waken, But nevermore that holy…George Edward Woodberry: At Gibraltar
At GibraltarGeorge Edward WoodberryIEngland, I stand on thy imperial ground, Not all a stranger; as thy bugles blow, I feel within my blood old battles flow — The blood whose ancient founts…George Edward Woodberry: The Secret
The SecretGeorge Edward WoodberryNightingales warble about it, All night under blossom and star; The wild swan is dying without it, And the eagle crieth afar; The sun he doth mount but to…Trending
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