#Americans #Women
THIS tattered catechism weaves a… Invoking from the Long Ago a chil… Who deemed her fledgling soul so s… She practised with a candle-flame… Burning small fingers, that would…
THOU whose sunny heart outglows Arctic snows; Russia’s hearth-fire, cherishing Courage almost perishing; Torch that beacons oversea
‘The faieries gave him the propert… The fairies to his cradle came to… Their footsteps like the laughter… They touched him with the Thracia… —O dream-enchanted, singing heart!…
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,
THESE palms weave shadows of del… But the truant heart flies forth To birch-boles glistening more tha… In the forests of the North.
THOUGH the winds but stir on th… Of hemlock and pungent pine, All the whispering woodland tones Gossip of things divine,— Why God is gray in the granite ro…
‘Thus far 80,000 horses have been… WHAT was our share in the sinnin… That we must share the doom? Sweet was our life’s beginning In the spicy meadow-bloom,
HOPE of the Nations, lift thy st… Thyself art Sorrow, and to thee t… Of battle-anguish comes more pierc… Than even in those months of sneer… When thou so steadfastly didst bea…
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…
How long, O Prince of Peace, how… Of this wild war that wraps the wo… Fed on earth’s glorious youth, hig… —O Chivalry of Hope!— With the cloudy host of the infide…
What fragrant-footed comer Is stepping o’er my head? Behold, my queen! the Summer! Who deems her warriors dead. Now rise, ye knights of many fight…
GRAY gulls that wheeled and dipp… Where tossing crests like Alpine… Would shimmer and entice; A stormy petrel, Judas soul, Dark wanderer of the waste, whose…
THE cup, the ruby cup Whence anguish drips, At last is lifted up Against our lips. Though we, till seas run dry,
What will you give to a barefoot l… Morning with breath like wine? Wade, bare feet! In my wide moras… Starry marigolds shine. Alms, sweet Noon, for a barefoot…
‘MOTHER! Mother!’ he called as… In the horror there Of a bursting shell That strewed red flesh on the air. Far away over sea and land: