#AmericanWriters
I think awhile of Love, and while… Love is to me a world, Sole meat and sweetest drink, And close connecting link Tween heaven and earth.
SALMON Brook, Penichook, Ye sweet waters of my brain, When shall I look, Or cast the hook,
I am a parcel of vain strivings ti… By a chance bond together, Dangling this way and that, their… Were made so loose and wide, Methinks,
Indeed indeed, I cannot tell, Though I ponder on it well, Which were easier to state, All my love or all my hate. Surely, surely, thou wilt trust me
Let such pure hate still underprop Our love, that we may be Each other’s conscience, And have our sympathy Mainly from thence.
Among the signs of autumn I perce… The Roman wormwood (called by lea… Ambrosia elatior, food for gods,'… For to impartial science the humbl… Is as immortal once as the proudes…
THOUGH all the fates should pro… Leave not your native land behind. The ship, becalmed, at length stan… The steed must rest beneath the hi… But swiftly still our fortunes pac…
Packed in my mind lie all the clot… Which outward nature wears, And in its fashion’s hourly change It all things else repairs. In vain I look for change abroad,
Men say they know many things; But lo! they have taken wings, ' The arts and sciences, And a thousand appliances; The wind that blows
Here lies the body of this world, Whose soul alas to hell is hurled. This golden youth long since was p… Its silver manhood went as fast, An iron age drew on at last;
O Nature! I do not aspire To be the highest in thy choir, - To be a meteor in thy sky, Or comet that may range on high; Only a zephyr that may blow
Lately alas I knew a gentle boy, Whose features all were cast in V… As one she had designed for Beaut… But after manned him for her own s… On every side he open was as day,
LIGHT-WINGED Smoke, Icarian… Melting thy pinions in thy upward… Lark without song, and the messeng… Circling above the hamlets as thy… Or else, departing dream, and shad…
My books I’d fain cast off, I can… ‘Twixt every page my thoughts go s… Down in the meadow, where is riche… And will not mind to hit their pro… Plutarch was good, and so was Hom…
They who prepare my evening meal b… Carelessly hit the kettle as they… With tongs or shovel, And ringing round and round, Out of this hovel