#AmericanWriters
There was a time when I was very… When my whole frame was but an ell… Sweetly, as I recall it, tears do… And therefore I recall it with de… I sported in my tender mother’s ar…
What phantom is this that appears Through the purple mist of the yea… Itself but a mist like these? A woman of cloud and of fire; It is she; it is Helen of Tyre,
You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewi… How the handsome Yenadizze Danced at Hiawatha’s wedding; How the gentle Chibiabos, He the sweetest of musicians,
All are architects of Fate, Working in these walls of Time; Some with massive deeds and great, Some with ornaments of rhyme. Nothing useless is, or low;
Little sweet wine of Jurançon, You are dear to my memory still! With mine host and his merry song, Under the rose-tree I drank my fi… Twenty years after, passing that w…
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.
I stood upon the hills, when heave… Was glorious with the sun’s return… And woods were brightened, and sof… Went forth to kiss the sun-clad va… The clouds were far beneath me; ba…
There is a Reaper, whose name is… And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a br… And the flowers that grow between. “Shall I have naught that is fair…
When the warm sun, that brings Seed-time and harvest, has returne… 'T is sweet to visit the still woo… The first flower of the plain. I love the season well,
Olger the Dane and Desiderio, King of the Lombards, on a lofty… Stood gazing northward o’er the ro… League after league of harvests, t… Of the snow-crested Alps, and saw…
Blind Bartimeus at the gates Of Jericho in darkness waits; He hears the crowd;—he hears a bre… Say, “It is Christ of Nazareth!” And calls, in tones of agony,
By the shore of Gitche Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, At the doorway of his wigwam, In the pleasant Summer morning, Hiawatha stood and waited.
Love, love, what wilt thou with th… Naught see I fixed or sure in the… I do not know thee,—nor what deeds… Love, love, what wilt thou with th… Naught see I fixed or sure in the…
Sweet chimes! that in the loneline… Salute the passing hour, and in th… And silent chambers of the househo… The movements of the myriad orbs o… Through my closed eyelids, by the…
Whene’er a noble deed is wrought, Whene’er is spoken a noble thought… Our hearts, in glad surprise, To higher levels rise. The tidal wave of deeper souls