#AmericanWriters
God, what a joy it is to plant a t… And from the sallow earth to watch… Lifting its emerald branches to th… In silent adoration; and to see Its strength and glory waxing with…
I am serenity. Though passions b… Like mighty billows on my helpless… I know beyond them lies the perfec… Serenity, which patience can impar… And when wild tempests in my bosom…
Mother says, ‘Be in no hurry, Marriage oft means care and worry.… Auntie says, with manner grave, ‘Wife is synonym for slave.’ Father asks, in tones commanding,
In France I saw a hill-a gentle s… Rising above old tombs to greet th… From soft spring skies. Beyond th… But those green graves bespeak a b… There was a row of narrow beds, ne…
On the white throat of useless pas… That scorched my soul with its bur… I clutched my fingers in murderous… And gathered them close in a grip… For why should I fan, or feed wit…
In his great cushioned chair by th… An old man sits dreaming to-night, His withered hands, licked by the… Warm rays of the red anthracite, Are folded before him, all listles…
We cannot choose our sorrows. One… Who, reverent of soul, and strong… Cried, ‘God, though Thou shouldst… Yet will I praise thy everlasting… Beggared, my faith would never hal…
The strings of my heart were strun… And I laughed when the music fell… For he and Mirth played a joyful… And they played so loud that I co… The wailing and mourning of souls…
Once in the world’s first prime, When nothing lived or stirred, Nothing but new-born Time, Nor was there even a bird— The Silence spoke to a Star,
In the fair morning of his life, When his pure heart lay in his bre… Panting, with all that wild unrest To plunge into the great world’s s… That fills young hearts with mad d…
All the world was wearying, All the world was sad; Everything was shadow-filled; Things were going bad. Then a rumour stirred all hearts
Flowers of France in the Spring, Your growth is a beautiful thing; But give us your fragrance and blo… Yea, give us your lives in truth, Give us your sweetness and grace
Beside us in our seeking after ple… Through all our restless striving… Through all our search for worldly… There walketh one whom no man like… Silent he follows, veiled of form…
‘Tis time to dress. Dost hear the… Like sobbing waves that roll up fr… Yes, yes, I hear – I yield – no n… I know your wishes,– send Lisette… I hate the ballroom; hate its gild…
Sometimes she seems so helpless an… So full of sweet unreason and so w… So prone to some capricious whim o… Now gay, now tearful, and now ange… By her strange moods of waywardnes…