#AmericanWriters
At anchor in Hampton Roads we lay… On board of the Cumberland, sloop… And at times from the fortress acr… The alarum of drums swept past, Or a bugle blast
The lords of life, the lords of li… I saw them pass, In their own guise, Like and unlike, Portly and grim,
Man was made of social earth, Child and brother from his birth; Tethered by a liquid cord Of blood through veins of kindred… Next his heart the fireside band
Long I followed happy guides,— I could never reach their sides. Their step is forth, and, ere the… Breaks up their leaguer, and away. Keen my sense, my heart was young,
I rake no coffined clay, nor publi… The resurrection of departed pride… Safe in their ancient crannies, da… Let kings and conquerors, saints a… Late in the world,—too late percha…
Daughter of Heaven and Earth, coy… With sudden passion languishing, Maketh all things softly smile, Painteth pictures mile on mile, Holds a cup with cowslip—wreaths,
Seek not the Spirit, if it hide, Inexorable to thy zeal: Baby, do not whine and chide; Art thou not also real? Why should’st thou stoop to poor e…
I like the church; I like a cowl; I love a prophet of the soul; And on my heart monastic aisles Fall like sweet strains, or pensiv… Yet not for all his faith can see
I am the Muse who sung alway By Jove, at dawn of the first day… Star—crowned, sole—sitting, long… To fire the stagnant earth with th… On spawning slime my song prevails…
Burly dozing humblebee! Where thou art is clime for me. Let them sail for Porto Rique, Far—off heats through seas to seek… I will follow thee alone,
I heard or seemed to hear the chid… Say, Pilgrim, why so late and slo… Am I not always here, thy summer… Is not my voice thy music, morn an… My breath thy healthful climate in…
There is one mind common to all individual men. Every man is an inlet to the same and to all of the same. He that is once admitted to the right of reason is made a freeman of the whol...
Thousand minstrels woke within me, “Our music’s in the hills; ”— Gayest pictures rose to win me, Leopard—colored rills. Up!—If thou knew’st who calls
Space is ample, east and west, But two cannot go abreast, Cannot travel in it two: Yonder masterful cuckoo Crowds every egg out of the nest,
Thanks to the morning light, Thanks to the seething sea, To the uplands of New Hampshire, To the green—haired forest free; Thanks to each man of courage,