#AmericanWriters
My love, my love, if you could com… From your high place, I would not question you for heave… But, silent, take the comfort of y… I would not ask you if those golde…
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…
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
‘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,
(Switzerland) BEHOLD a temple builded not by… Columns of mist, all shimmering wi… Stream heavenward from the deep-cu… Between the mountains, and the vau…
At the crowded gangway they kissed… He had half a mind to scold her. An officer’s mother and not keep d… The epaulet on his shoulder. He had forgotten mother and fame,
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…
WHEN Cap’n Tom comes home, and… Is opened, oh, the shells that rai… Tossed on far shores, by us to be… When Cap’n Tom comes home! Cocoanuts for which gray, chatteri…
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…
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…
WHAT sudden voice peals to the C… To Finland and the bitter Caspian… To those Siberian prisons whither… Shall seek as to a shrine, that mu… Divine word Liberty? Impetuous
BESIDE the country road with tr… Wild carrot lifts its circles of w… From vines whose interwoven branch… The old stone walls, come pungent… The sumach torches burn; the hardh…
THE leaves and tassels of the oak Were golden-green with May, Pavilion whence forever broke Some angel roundelay. A carol like a glory came
‘T IS the blithest, bonniest we… For a bird to trill and warble, al… I 've a secret. You may listen… Little maiden, but I 'll never,… You 'll find no more wary piper,…
THE poor earth was so winter-marr… Harried by storm so long, It seemed no spring could mend her… No tardy sunshine render Atonement for such wrong.