#AmericanWriters
I. In South Africa Over the lonesome African plain The stars look down, like eyes of… A bumping ride across gullies and… Now a grumble and now a jest,
Of all the happy and holy times That fill the steeples with merry… And warm our hearts in the coldest… ’Twas Christmas eve, as I live by… One by one had the drowsy oaks
ALAS, alas for those blond boys… Their prey in ambush of the shudde… Whiling the wait with merry, tende… Of some dear knot of flower-clad c… Beyond the Rhine! The merchantshi…
White wing, white wing, Lily of the air, What word dost bring, On whose errand fare? Red word, red word,
ONE summer day, gleaming in memor… We drove, my Joy and I, Through fragrant hawthorn lanes Gold-fringed with wisps of rye Brushed off the harvest wains,
1899 Who would trust England, let him… To Nelson, columned o’er Trafalga… Her hieroglyph of duty, written wh… The roar of traffic hushes to the…
HARD to wait for the postman’s t… Up the snowy walk, for the hand th… Deep in his pack, while the childr… For the rainbow-ribboned packages, And women wax faint with their fea…
WILD Europe, red with Woden’s d… On fire with Loki’s hate, more sa… Beasts that we shame by likening t… Was it toward this the toiling cen… Was it for this the Reign of Love…
OH, what is Christ, that we shoul… Wasted Armenia, in her utter woe, Dies in the mocking desert, callin… Hyænas tear her children limb from… The clouds, soft dimpled once with…
THOU whose sunny heart outglows Arctic snows; Russia’s hearth-fire, cherishing Courage almost perishing; Torch that beacons oversea
SWEET are the manners of the woo… Our only old society, Where all the folk are glad and go… In unrebuked variety. Within this gentle commonweal
Carnage! Humanity disgraced! Time’s dearest toil effaced! Poison gases and flame Putting Nero to shame!
IN seas far north, day after day We leaned upon the rail, engrossed In frolic fin and jewel spray And crystal headlands of the coast… Those beauties held so long in gaz…
WHAT song is in the sap of this… That to the north-star faces, Ravened each June by caterpillar… Till all its leaves are laces, Poor shreds whose very shadow grie…