#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
The moon in the field of the keel-… Was watching the growing tide: A luminous peasant was driving his… And he offered my soul a ride. But I nourished a sorrow uncommon…
Mrs. Mehitable Marcia Moore Was a dame of superior mind, With a gown which, modestly fittin… Was greatly puffed up behind. The bustle she wore was ingeniousl…
‘Tis Master Fitch, the editor; He takes an holiday. Now wherefore, venerable sir, So resolutely gay? He lifts his head, he laughs aloud…
As time rolled on the whole world… A desolation and a darksome curse; And some one said: ‘The changes t… In the fair frame of things, from… Are wrought by strikes. The sun w…
A traveler observed one day A loaded fruit-tree by the way. And reining in his horse exclaimed… ‘The man is greatly to be blamed Who, careless of good morals, leav…
To a hunter from the city, Overtaken by the night, Spake, in tones of tender pity For himself, an aged wight: ‘I have found the world a fountain
Daughter of God! Audacity divine Of clowns the terror and of brains… Not thou the inspirer of the rushi… Not thine of idiots the vocal droo… Thy bastard sister of the brow of…
It was a bruised and battered chap The victim of some dire mishap, Who sat upon a rock and spent His breath in this ungay lament: 'Some wars-I’ve frequent heard of…
Cried Age to Youth: 'Abate your… The distance hither’s brief indeed… But Youth pressed on without dela… The shout had reached but half the…
So, gentle critics, you would have… Not at the guilty, only just at G… Spare the offender and condemn Of… And make life miserable to Preten… 'Whip Vice and Folly-that is sati…
When Admonition’s hand essays Our greed to curse, Its lifted finger oft displays Our missing purse.
Dear Bruner, once we had a little… (That is to say, 'twas I did all… About the manner of your moral wal… How devious the trail you made in… On level ground, your law-protecte…
Your influence, my friend, has gat… To east and west its tides encroac… There’ll be, on all God’s foot-st… No clean spot left for God to set…
Great poets fire the world with fa… That make a crackling racket, But I’m content with but a whispe… To warm some single jacket.
I dreamed that I was poor and sic… Broken in hope and weary of my lif… My ventures all miscarrying-naught… For all my labor in the heat and s… And in my heart some certain thoug…