#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #PoemsOfPower
Oh! the maidens of France are cer… And I think every fellow will sta… That the 'what-you-may-call-it’ co… They put up their hair is great! And they know how to dress, and th…
Like some schoolmaster, kind in be… Who hears the children crying o’er… And calling, “Help me, master!” y… Since in his silence and refusal l… Their self-development, so God ab…
If all the end of this continuous… Were simply to attain, How poor would seem the planning a… The endless urging and the hurried… Of body, heart, and brain!
We two were lovers, the Sea and I… We plighted our troth 'neath a s… And all through the riotous ardent… We dreamed, and loved, and rejoice… * * *
GOOD-BY to the cradle, the dear… The rude hand of Progress has thr… No more to its motion, o’er Sleep… Our play-weary wayfarers peacefull… No more by the rhythm of slow-movi…
The final word in the title of this volume refers to the Divine Power in every human being, the recognition of which is the secret to all success and happiness. It is this idea which m...
Come, cuddle your head on my shoul… Your head like the golden-rod, And we will go sailing away from h… To the beautiful land of Nod. Away from life’s hurry, and flurry…
Friend of my youth, let us talk of… Of the long lost golden hours. When “Winter” meant only Christma… And “Summer” wreaths of flowers. Life has grown old, and cold, my f…
When the first sere leaves of the… I heard, with a heart that was str… Out of the grave of a dead Past c… A voice I fancied forever stilled… All through winter and spring and…
However the battle is ended, Though proudly the victor comes, With flaunting flags and neighing… And echoing roll of drums; Still truth proclaims this motto
The impulse of all love is to crea… God was so full of love, in his em… He clasped the empty nothingness o… And low! the solar system! High i… The mighty sun sat, so supreme and…
Oh, boastful, wicked land, that on… How bitter and how black must be y… While Time goes down the centurie… Time’s voice is just. His words r… The clear-eyed Future slowly writ…
Let us clear a little space, And make Love a burial-place. He is dead, dear, as you see, And he wearies you and me. Growing heavier, day by day,
The sands upon the ocean side That change about with every tide, And never true to one abide, A woman’s love I liken to. The summer zephyrs, light and vain…
Camouflage is all the rage. Ladies in their fight with age– Soldiers in their fight with foes– Demagogues who mask and pose In the guise of statesmen-girls