Will’s work is defined by its painter sensibility — an enduring influence on generations that followed. Most artists are dead; following is a declaration of love.
Sonnet: "When I have fears that I may cease to be"
Will Hicock Low American, 1853-1932
Ode: "Bards of passion and of mirth"
Swooned Murmuring of Love, and Pale with Pain
Keats' Last Sonnet
Ode on Melancholy
On This Side of Jove's Clouds
And Lycius' Arms Were Empty of Delight
I Dreamt I Saw Thee Robed in Purple Flakes
A Nymph, To Whom All Hoofed Satyrs Knelt Head-peice, Part 1
And in its Marriage Robe the Heavy Body Wound
What Wreath for Lamia? What for Lycius? What for the Sage
Pale Grew Her Immortality, For Woe of All These Lovers
They Were Enthroned, in the Eventide, Upon a Couch - Head-Piece, Part II
The Sophist's Eye, Like a Sharp Spear, Went Through Her Utterly
Into the Green Recessed Woods They Flew
And So He Rested on the Lonely Ground
The Words She Spake Came as Through Bubbling Honey
Lamia
The Guarded Nymph Near-Smiling on the Green
Checking His Love Trance, a Cup He Took Full Brimm'd