#AmericanWriters
Oft I remember those I have known In other days, to whom my heart wa… As by a magnet, and who are not de… But absent, and their memories ove… With other thoughts and troubles o…
Annie of Tharaw, my true love of… She is my life, and my goods, and… Annie of Tharaw, her heart once a… To me has surrendered in joy and i… Annie of Tharaw, my riches, my go…
Southward with fleet of ice Sailed the corsair Death; Wild and gast blew the blast, And the east—wind was his breath. His lordly ships of ice
The night is come, but not too soo… And sinking silently, All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky. There is no light in earth or heav…
Sweet the memory is to me Of a land beyond the sea, Where the waves and mountains meet… Where amid her mulberry—trees Sits Amalfi in the heat,
STARS of the summer night! Far in yon azure deeps, Hide, hide your golden light! She sleeps! My lady sleeps!
Simon Danz has come home again, From cruising about with his bucca… He has singed the beard of the Ki… And carried away the Dean of Jaen And sold him in Algiers.
How they so softly rest, All they the holy ones, Unto whose dwelling-place Now doth my soul draw near! How they so softly rest,
At Stralsund, by the Baltic Sea, Within the sandy bar, At sunset of a summer’s day, Ready for sea, at anchor lay The good ship Valdemar.
It was the season, when through al… The merle and mavis build, and bui… Those lovely lyrics, written by H… Whom Saxon Caedmon calls the Bli… When on the boughs the purple buds…
Once on a time, some centuries ago… In the hot sunshine two Francisca… Wended their weary way, with foots… Back to their convent, whose white… Gleamed on the hillside like a pat…
Mounted on Kyrat strong and fleet… His chestnut steed with four white… Roushan Beg, called Kurroglou, Son of the road and bandit chief, Seeking refuge and relief,
I have read, in some old, marvello… Some legend strange and vague, That a midnight host of spectres p… Beleaguered the walls of Prague. Beside the Moldau’s rushing strea…
Full of wrath was Hiawatha When he came into the village, Found the people in confusion, Heard of all the misdemeanors, All the malice and the mischief,
As a pale phantom with a lamp Ascends some ruin’s haunted stair, So glides the moon along the damp Mysterious chambers of the air. Now hidden in cloud, and now revea…