#AmericanWriters
When the dying flame of day Through the chancel shot its ray, Far the glimmering tapers shed Faint light on the cowled head; And the censer burning swung,
Ah, Love! Perjured, false, treacherous Love… Enemy Of all that mankind may not rue! Most untrue
A wind came up out of the sea, And said, ‘O mists, make room for… It hailed the ships, and cried, ‘… Ye mariners, the night is gone.’ And hurried landward far away,
When Alcuin taught the sons of Ch… In the free schools of Aix, how k… And with them taught the children… How subjects should be patient and… He touched the lips of some, as be…
All are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low;
Most beautiful, most gentle! Yet… To all that gladdens the fair eart… That watched her being; the matern… That kept and nourished her; and t… That steals from our own thoughts,…
How I started up in the night, in… Drawn on without rest or reprieval… The streets, with their watchmen,… As I wandered so light In the night, in the night,
The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewi… How the handsome Yenadizze Danced at Hiawatha’s wedding; How the gentle Chibiabos, He the sweetest of musicians,
Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope… And Valmond, Emperor of Allemain… Apparelled in magnificent attire, With retinue of many a knight and… On St. John’s eve, at vespers, pr…
The sun is set; and in his latest… Yon little cloud of ashen gray and… Slowly upon the amber air unrolled… The falling mantle of the Prophet… From the dim headlands many a ligh…
A vision as of crowded city street… With human life in endless overflo… Thunder of thoroughfares; trumpets… To battle; clamor, in obscure retr… Of sailors landed from their ancho…
King Solomon, before his palace g… At evening, on the pavement tessel… Was walking with a stranger from t… Arrayed in rich attire as for a fe… The mighty Runjeet-Sing, a learne…
I like that ancient Saxon phrase,… The burial-ground God’s-Acre! It… It consecrates each grave within i… And breathes a benison o’er the sl… God’s-Acre! Yes, that blessed nam…
The summer sun is sinking low; Only the tree-tops redden and glow… Only the weathercock on the spire Of the neighboring church is a fla… All is in shadow below.