#AmericanWriters
IN her vast church of glimmering… Gray-stoled from feet to chin, Her dark locks beaded with the dew… The nun-like dawn comes in: At once the hills put on their spe…
First Came the rain, loud, with s… A pursuivant who heralded a prince… And dawn put on her livery of tint… And dusk bound gold about her hair… And, all in silver mail, the sunli…
I passed a cottage ‘twixt the town… And marked its garden, blossoming… And breathing many a scent. Awhil… Near pink and marigold. It seemed a place of prayer; of lo…
He told a story to her, A story old yet new And was it of the Faëry Folk That dance along the dew? The night was hung with silence
Universes are the pages Of that book whose words are ages; Of that book which destiny Opens in eternity. There each syllable expresses
There’s a boy that you must know, Always ragged, dirty too; Just a wretched sight and show Worst boy that I ever knew; Always hitting other boys
The night is sad with silver and t… And the woodland silence listens t… Of the Lady of the Fountain, whom… With her limbs of samite whiteness… Whom the boyish South Wind seeks…
White from her chrysalis of cloud, The moth-like moon swings upward t… And all the bee-like stars that cr… The hollow hive of heav’n wane in… Along the distance, folds of mist
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,
Deep with divine tautology, The sunset’s mighty mystery Again has traced the scroll-like w… With hieroglyphs of burning gold: Forever new, forever old,
The day is dead; and in the west The slender crescent of the moon Diana’s crystal-kindled crest Sinks hillward in a silvery swoon. What is the murmur in the dell?
Between the death of day and birth… By War’s red light, I met with one in trailing sorrows… Whose features had The look of Him who died to set m…
Upon the Siren-haunted seas, betw… Within a world of moon and mist, w… I see a phantom galley and its hul… With ghostly oars that move to son… ‘Oh, we are sick of rowing here!
Wrapped round of the night, as a m… Down, down through vast storeys of… Of the heaven, the thunder! on sta… Colossal of tread, like a giant, f… Goes striding in rattling armor...
He rode adown the autumn wood, A man dark-eyed and brown; A mountain girl before him stood Clad in a homespun gown. ‘To ride this road is death for yo…