#AmericanWriters
Beetling walls with ivy grown, Frowning heights of mossy stone; Turret, with its flaunting flag Flung from battlemented crag; Dungeon-keep and fortalice
Act first, scene first. A study.… Half cell, half salon, opulent yet… Rare books, low-shelved, yet far a… Of common man to compass or to cra… Some slight relief of pamphlets th…
(MR. INTERVIEWER INTER… Know me next time when you see me,… Oh, I mean YOU, old figger-head,… Take out your pensivil, d—n you; s… Any complaints to make? Lots of ‘…
Over the chimney the night-wind sa… And chanted a melody no one knew; And the Woman stopped, as her bab… And thought of the one she had lon… And said, as her teardrops back sh…
(TABLE MOUNTAIN, 1870) Which I wish to remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark And for tricks that are vain,
DRAMATIS PERSONAE Poet. Philosopher. Jones of Mari… POET Halt! Here we are. Now wheel your… Just where you stand; then doff yo…
(AFTER SPENSER) Lo! where the castle of bold Pfei… Its sullen shadow on the rolling t… No more the home where joy and wea… But now where wassailers in cells…
(AN AERIAL RETROSPECT) What was it filled my youthful dre… In place of Greek or Latin themes… Or beauty’s wild, bewildering beam… Avitor!
Beautiful! Sir, you may say so. T… Is thar, old gal,—Chiquita, my da… Feel of that neck, sir,—thar’s vel… you vixen! Whoa! I say. Jack, trot her out;…
Have you heard the story that goss… Of Burns of Gettysburg?—No? Ah,… Brief is the glory that hero earns… Briefer the story of poor John Bu… He was the fellow who won renown,—
O joy of creation To be! O rapture to fly And be free! Be the battle lost or won,
Down the picket-guarded lane Rolled the comfort-laden wain, Cheered by shouts that shook the p… Soldier-like and merry: Phrases such as camps may teach,
(OPENING OF THE PACIF… What was it the Engines said, Pilots touching,—head to head Facing on the single track, Half a world behind each back?
Two low whistles, quaint and clear… That was the signal the engineer— That was the signal that Guild, ’… Gave to his wife at Providence, As through the sleeping town, and…
Which I wish to remark, And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar,