#AmericanWriters
I need not ask thee, for my sake, To read a book which well may make Its way by native force of wit Without my manual sign to it. Its piquant writer needs from me
AT THE UNVEILING OF HI… Among their graven shapes to whom Thy civic wreaths belong, O city of his love, make room For one whose gift was song.
The beaver cut his timber With patient teeth that day, The minks were fish-wards, and the… Surveyors of highway,- When Keezar sat on the hillside
FOR DOROTHEA L. DIX. Stranger and traveller, Drink freely and bestow A kindly thought on her Who bade this fountain flow,
Dead Petra in her hill-tomb sleep… Her stones of emptiness remain; Around her sculptured mystery swee… The lonely waste of Edom’s plain. From the doomed dwellers in the cl…
Prelude I sing the Pilgrim of a softer cl… And milder speech than those brave… To the ice and iron of our winter… A will as firm, a creed as stern,…
Pipes of the misty moorlands, Voice of the glens and hills; The droning of the torrents, The treble of the rills! Not the braes of bloom and heather…
A score of years had come and gone Since the Pilgrims landed on Plym… When Captain Underhill, bearing s… From Indian ambush and Flemish wa… Left three-hilled Boston and wand…
From the well-springs of Hudson,… Grave men, sober matrons, you gath… And, with hearts warmer grown as y… Play over the old game of going to… All your strifes and vexations, yo…
HE had bowed down to drunkenness, An abject worshipper: The pride of manhood’s pulse had g… Too faint and cold to stir; And he had given his spirit up
. GIFT from the cold and silent Pa… A relic to the present cast, Left on the ever-changing strand Of shifting and unstable sand,
ACROSS the Stony Mountains, o’… The circles of our empire touch th… From slumberous Timpanogos, to Gi… Flowing down from Nuevo-Leon to… And from the mountains of the east…
Who, looking backward from his man… Sees not the spectre of his misspe… And, through the shade Of funeral cypress planted thick b… Hears no reproachful whisper on th…
Still, as of old, in Beavor’s Val… O man of God! our hope and faith The Elements and Stars assail, And the awed spirit holds its brea… Blown over by a wind of death.
Gallery of sacred pictures manifol… A minster rich in holy effigies, And bearing on entablature and fri… The hieroglyphic oracles of old. Along its transept aureoled martyr…