#AmericanWriters
From the Mahabharata. Before the Ender comes, whose cha… Is swift or slow Disease, lay up… Thy harvests of well-doing, wealth… Nor thieves can take away. When a…
'Neath skies that winter never kne… The air was full of light and balm… And warm and soft the Gulf wind b… Through orange bloom and groves of… A stranger from the frozen North,
‘ A! fredome is a nobill thing! Fredome mayse man to haif liking. Fredome all solace to man giffis; He levys at ese that frely levys! A nobil hart may haif nane ese
MEN of the North-land! where’s t… Of the true-hearted and the unshac… Sons of old freemen, do we but inh… Their names alone? Is the old Pilgrim spirit quenche…
I have not felt, o’er seas of sand… The rocking of the desert bark; Nor laved at Hebron’s fount my ha… By Hebron’s palm-trees cool and d… Nor pitched my tent at even-fall,
I LOVE the old melodious lays Which softly melt the ages through… The songs of Spenser’s golden d… Arcadian Sidney’s silvery phras… Sprinkling our noon of time with f…
A FEW brief years have passed aw… Since Britain drove her million s… Beneath the tropic’s fiery ray: God willed their freedom; and to-d… Life blooms above those island gra…
The gulf of seven and fifty years We stretch our welcoming hands acr… The distance but a pebble’s toss Between us and our youth appears. For in life’s school we linger on
JUST God! and these are they Who minister at thine altar, God… Men who their hands with prayer an… On Israel’s Ark of light! What! preach, and kidnap men?
The Persian’s flowery gifts, the… Of fruitful Ceres, charm no more; The woven wreaths of oak and pine Are dust along the Isthmian shore… But beauty hath its homage still,
O Mother Earth! upon thy lap Thy weary ones receiving, And o’er them, silent as a dream, Thy grassy mantle weaving, Fold softly in thy long embrace
The shadows round the inland sea Are deepening into night; Slow up the slopes of Ossipee They chase the lessening light. Tired of the long day’s blinding h…
Thrice welcome from the Land of F… And golden-fruited orange bowers To this sweet, green-turfed June… To her who, in our evil time, Dragged into light the nation’s cr…
PRELUDE ALONG the roadside, like the flo… That tawny Incas for their garden… Heavy with sunshine droops the gol… And the red pennons of the cardina…
OUR fellow-countrymen in chains! Slaves, in a land of light and law… Slaves, crouching on the very plai… Where rolled the storm of Freedom… A groan from Eutaw’s haunted wood…