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A sonnet in my finger tips - Ben Hecht "An Invitation to Cheat Posterity"

The water beasts roaring in the night - Ben Hecht "Moods"

Stung to madness by the tempest's might - Ben Hecht "Moods"

Splintering their heads in a furious race - Ben Hecht "Moods"

Sweeping in a foam across the night - Ben Hecht "Moods"

The wild beating blows of the strong handed winds - Ben Hecht "Moods"

The gnarled black fist of the earth - Ben Hecht "Moods"

Stand on a rock in the darkness - Ben Hecht "My Island"

Rush to you and embrace the moon - Ben Hecht "My Island"

Curling over the edge of the world - Ben Hecht "My Island"

Run to you to embrace the sun - Ben Hecht "My Island"

A silver jewel in the ebony arms of shadows - Ben Hecht "My Island"

Lie in the velvet depths of silence - Ben Hecht "My Island"

A white stain on the night - Ben Hecht "My Island"

Bending over you in the darkness - Ben Hecht "My Island"

The silence that walks in the dark streets - Ben Hecht "The Poet Sings to the World" [The Little Review, Aug. 1916, v.3, no.5]

And the cold wind that warms itself in my heart - Ben Hecht "The Poet Sings to the World" [The Little Review, Aug. 1916, v.3, no.5]

The night is a black poppy - Ben Hecht "Sorrow"

Spilling a torrent of silver tears - Ben Hecht "Sorrow"

Silver tears across the black petals - Ben Hecht "Sorrow"

The stars are little devils - Ben Hecht "Sorrow"

Threads of moonlight float entangled - Ben Hecht "Three Flesh-tints: The Incense Burner" [The Little Review, May 1916, v.3, no.3]

Souls come whispering from its ancient lips - Ben Hecht "Three Flesh-tints: The Incense Burner" [The Little Review, May 1916, v.3, no.3]

Dried wisps of water break into blue wings - Ben Hecht "Three Flesh-tints: The Incense Burner" [The Little Review, May 1916, v.3, no.3]

Dead pearls drift in a dead circle - Ben Hecht "Three Flesh-tints: The Incense Burner" [The Little Review, May 1916, v.3, no.3]

Weaves a monotonous thread of painted rubies - Ben Hecht "Three Flesh-tints: The Goldfish in a Bowl" [The Little Review, May 1916, v.3, no.3]

The sapphire roses and the crystal fringe and the topaz silks - Ben Hecht "Three Flesh-tints: The Goldfish in a Bowl" [The Little Review, May 1916, v.3, no.3]

Sewn with the red dust of roses - Ben Hecht "Three Flesh-tints: A Nude" [The Little Review, May 1916, v.3, no.3]

The topaz breath of the sleeping sun - Ben Hecht "Three Flesh-tints: A Nude" [The Little Review, May 1916, v.3, no.3]

That circle and beat against the azure gloom - Ben Hecht "Three Flesh-tints: A Nude" [The Little Review, May 1916, v.3, no.3]

Burning on the shadowed lips of the night - Ben Hecht "Three Flesh-tints: A Nude" [The Little Review, May 1916, v.3, no.3]

The flowing of ghostly water under fierce moons - Ben Hecht "Three Flesh-tints: A Nude" [The Little Review, May 1916, v.3, no.3]

Woven out of bloody grapes and the dead mists of incense - Ben Hecht "Three Flesh-tints: A Nude" [The Little Review, May 1916, v.3, no.3]


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