#AmericanWriters
My little story, Cousin Rufus sai… Is not so much a story as a fact. It is about a certain willful boy— An aggrieved, unappreciated boy, Grown to dislike his own home very…
O love is like an untamed steed!— So hot of heart and wild of speed, And with fierce freedom so in love… The desert is not vast enough, With all its leagues of glimmering…
Old October’s purt’ nigh gone, And the frosts is comin’ on Little heavier every day— Like our hearts is thataway! Leaves is changin’ overhead
We must get home—for we have been… So long it seems forever and a day… And O so very homesick we have gr… The laughter of the world is like… In our tired hearing, and its song…
The Hoosier Folk-Child—all unsun… Unlettered all of mind and tongue; Unmastered, unmolested—made Most wholly frank and unafraid: Untaught of any school—unvexed
‘O I am weary!’ she sighed, as he… Hair she unloosed in a torrent of… That rippled and fell o’er a figur… Graceful and fair as a goddess of… Over her jewels she flung herself…
A monument for the Soldiers! And what will ye build it of? Can ye build it of marble, or bras… Outlasting the Soldiers’ love? Can ye glorify it with legends
I hail thee, Nessmuk, for the lof… Yet simple grace that marks thy po… True forester thou art, and still… Even in happier fields than thou h… Thus, in glad visions, glimpses am…
A barefoot boy! I mark him at his… For May is here once more, and so… His dusty trousers, rolled half to… And his bare ankles grimy, too, as… Cross-hatchings of the nettle, in…
The world is turned ag’in’ me, And people says, 'They guess That nothin’ else is in me But pure maliciousness!' I git the blame for doin’
A deep, delicious hush in earth an… A gracious lull—since, from its wa… The morn has been a feverish, rest… In which the pulse of Summer ran… And riotous, as though its heart w…
On the banks o’ Deer Crick! Ther… Worter slidin’ past ye jes as clai… See yer shadder in it, and the sha… And the shadder o’ the buzzard as… Shadder o’ the pizen-vines, and sh…
Las’ July—an’, I persume 'Bout as hot As the ole Gran’-Jury room Where they sot!— Fight 'twixt Mike an’ Dock McGri…
He faced his canvas (as a seer who… Pierces the crust of this existenc… And smiled beyond on that his geni… Ere mated with his being. Conscio… Of his high theme alone, he smiled…
Like a drift of faded blossoms Caught in a slanting rain, His fingers glimpsed down the stri… In a tremulous refrain: Patter and tinkle, and drip and dr…