#AmericanWriters
Around Sebago’s lonely lake There lingers not a breeze to brea… The mirror which its waters make. The solemn pines along its shore, The firs which hang its gray rock…
The new world honors him whose lof… For England’s freedom made her ow… Whose song, immortal as its theme,… Their common freehold while both w…
His laurels fresh from song and la… Romance, art, science, rich in all… And young of heart, how dare we sa… We keep his seventieth festival? No sense is here of loss or lack;
Where ceaseless Spring her garlan… As sweetly shall the loved one res… As if beneath the whispering pines And maple shadows of the West. Ye mourn, O hearts of home! for h…
Some die too late and some too soo… At early morning, heat of noon, Or the chill evening twilight. Th… Whom the rich heavens did so endow With eyes of power and Jove’s own…
Is this the land our fathers loved… The freedom which they toiled to w… Is this the soil whereon they move… Are these the graves they slumber… Are we the sons by whom are borne
“Put up the sword!” The voice of… Speaks, in the pauses of the canno… O’er fields of corn by fiery sickl… And left dry ashes; over trenches… With nameless dead; o’er cities st…
OH, none in all the world before Were ever glad as we! We’re free on Carolina’s shore, We’re all at home and free. Thou Friend and Helper of the poo…
THE pleasant isle of Rügen looks… To the silver-sanded beaches of th… And in the town of Rambin a littl… Plucked the meadow-flowers togethe… Alike were they in beauty if not i…
Outbound, your bark awaits you. W… Whose prayer availeth much, my wis… Your favoring trad-wind and consen… By sail or steed was never love ou… And, here or there, love follows h…
To-day the plant by Williams set Its summer bloom discloses; The wilding sweethrier of his pray… Is crowned with cultured roses. Once more the Island State repeat…
Out and in the river is winding The links of its long, red chain, Through belts of dusky pine-land And gusty leagues of plain. Only, at times, a smoke-wreath
Friend of my many years! When the great silence falls, at l… Let me not leave, to pain and sadd… A memory of tears, But pleasant thoughts alone.
THE tossing spray of Cocheco’s f… Hardened to ice on its rocky wall, As through Dover town in the chil… Three women passed, at the cart-ta… Bared to the waist, for the north…
‘O for a knight like Bayard, Without reproach or fear; My light glove on his casque of st… My love-knot on his spear! ’O for the white plume floating
