#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
The spring is coming! hear it blow… The rain and wind have cleared the… And I am going to play my fill With sunlight on the windy hill. And I am going to laugh and run,
Wild ridge on ridge the wooded hil… Between whose breezy vistas gulfs… Pilot great clouds like towering a… And hawk and buzzard breast the az… With many a foaming fall and glimm…
All desolate she sate her down Upon the marble of the temple’s st… You would have thought her, with h… Flushed cheeks and hazel hair, A dryad dreaming there.
The Voice of a Man WHAT of the Night, O Watcher? The Voice of a Woman Yea, what of it? The Watcher
Behold the blossom-bosomed Day ag… With all the star-white Hours in… Laughs out of pearl-lights through… That, leaning on the woodland wild… A sprinkled amber with the showers…
Roaring winds that rocked the crow… High in his eyrie, All night long, and to and fro Swung the cedar and drove the snow Out of the North, have ceased to…
When from the tower, like some swe… The bell drops petals of the hour, That says the world is homing, My heart puts off its garb of care And clothes itself in gold and vai…
Let me forget her face! So fresh, so lovely! the abiding p… Of tears and smiles that won my he… Of dreams and moods that moved my… As strong winds stir
Hang out your loveliest star, O N… Your richest rose, O Dawn! To greet sweet Summer, her, who,… Leads Earth’s best hours on. Hark! how the wild birds of the wo…
Blow high, blow low! No longer borrow Care of tomorrow: Take joy of life, and let care go!
Be of good cheer, and have no fear Of Fortune or Tomorrow: To Hope’s low whisper lend an ear And turn away from Sorrow. Time out of mind the soul is blind
Far down the lane A window pane Gleams 'mid the trees through nigh… The weeds are dense Through which a fence
THE Day brims high its ewer Of blue with starry light, And crowns as King that hewer Of clouds (which take their flight Across the sky) old Night.
LOW, weed-climbed cliffs, o’er wh… The sea-mists swoon: Wind-twisted pines, through which… Goes winging slow: Dim fields, the sower never sows,
Across the world she sends me word… From gardens fair as Falerina’s, Now by a blossom, now a bird, To come to her, who long has lured With magic sweeter than Alcina’s.