#Americans #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1914 #PoemsOfCheer
If any line that I ever penned, Or any word I have spoken, Has comforted heart of foe or frie… In any way, why my life, I’ll say… Has reaped the reward of labour,
I saw them sitting in the shade; The long green vines hung over, But could not hide the gold-haired… And Earl, my dark-eyed lover. His arm was clasped so close, so c…
However the battle is ended, Though proudly the victor comes With fluttering flags and prancing… And echoing roll of drums, Still truth proclaims this motto
The saddest hour of anguish and of… Is not that season of supreme desp… When we can find no least light an… To gild the dread, black shadow of… Not in that luxury of sorrow when
Not Atlas, with his shoulders ben… Bore such a burden as this man, on… The evils of old festering lands-y… And left him standing all alone, t… It is the way the Fates have done…
I am all tired out, said the mouth… I am all tired out with talk. Just wait, said the knee, till you… And then have to walk-walk-walk. My work, said the hand, is the har…
Let me look always forward. Never… Was I not formed for progress? Ot… With onward pointing feet and sear… Would God have set me squarely on… Up which we all must labour with l…
Here, in the heart of the world, Here, in the noise and the din, Here, where our spirits were hurle… To battle with sorrow and sin, This is the place and the spot
And now, when poets are singing Their songs of olden days, And now, when the land is ringing With sweet Centennial lays, My muse goes wandering backward,
God gave him passions, splendid as… Meant for the lordliest purposes;… Of nature’s full and fertile mothe… From which new systems and new sta… And now, behold, behold, what he h…
Come, cuddle your head on my shoul… Your head like the golden-rod, And we will go sailing away from h… To the beautiful land of Nod. Away from life’s hurry, and flurry…
As we journey along, with a laugh… We see, on youth’s flower-decked s… Like a beacon of light, shining fa… The beautiful Station of Hope. But the wheels of old Time roll a…
Our lives are songs. God writes t… And we set them to music at pleasu… And the song grows glad, or sweet,… As we choose to fashion the measur… We must write the music, whatever…
Have you heard of the king of Can… Well, listen while I sing, He has pages on every hand, For he is a mighty king, And thousands of children bend the…
Toward even when the day leans dow… To kiss the upturned face of night… Out just beyond the loud-voiced to… I know a spot of calm delight. Like crimson arrows from a quiver
