#AmericanWriters
EVER since man was man a Fiend h… Outside his House of Good,' War, with his terrible toys, that… To follow murderous arts. His spurs, death-won, are but of l…
A Sea of onyx are the skies, Cloud-islanded with fire; Such nacre-colored flame as dyes A sea-shell’s rosy spire; And at its edge one star sinks slo…
What words of mine can tell the sp… Of garden ways I know so well?- The path that takes me in the spri… Past quince-trees where the bluebi… And peonies are blossoming,
The sun set late; and left along t… A belt of furious ruby, o’er which… Of clouds unrolled; each cloud a m… Blooming with almond-rose. The sun set late; and wafts of win…
I have heard the wind on a winter’… When the snow-cold moon looked ici… My window’s flickering firelight, Where the frost his witchery drew: I have heard the wind on a winter’…
Awake! the dawn is on the hills! Behold, at her cool throat a rose, Blue-eyed and beautiful she goes, Leaving her steps in daffodils.- Awake! arise! and let me see
Three memories hold us ever With longing and with pain; Three memories Time has never Been able to restrain; That in each life remain
Pale as a star that shines through… Her face was seen at the window-pa… Her sad, frail face that watched i… The face of a girl whose brow was… To whom the kind sun spoke at dawn…
A rollicking song for the morn, my… A rollicking song for the morn: It’s up and out with a laugh and s… While the bright sun circles the w… And the dew is on the corn, my boy…
Over the hills, as the pewee flies… Under the blue of the Southern sk… Over the hills, where the red-bird… Like a scarlet blossom, or sits an… Under the shadow of rock and tree,
This is the place where visions co… Dreams of the trees and flowers, g… Where the white moon and the pale… Sitting with Legend and with dim… This is the place where all the si…
Sweet lies! the sweetest ever hear… To her he said: Her heart remembers every word Now he is dead. I ask:' If thus his lies can make
A RIVER binds the lonely land, A river like a silver band, To crags and shores of yellow sand… It is a place where kildees cry, And endless marshes eastward lie,
The unpretentious flowers of the w… That rise in bright and banded bro… Waving us welcome, and with kisses… Laying their lives down underneath… Lesson my soul more than the tomes…
The old gate clicks, and down the… Between clove-pink and hollyhock, Still young of face though gray of… Among her garden’s flowers she goe… At evening’s close,