#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Beyond the Northern Lights, in re… Of twilight, where the world is gl… And pale as Loki in his cavern wh… The serpent’s slaver burns him to… I saw the phantasms of gigantic me…
Sylvan, they say, and nymph are go… And yet I saw the two last night, When overhead the moon sailed whit… And through the mists, her light m… Each bush and tree doffed its disg…
The Alps of the Tyrol are dark wi… Where, foaming under the mountain… The Inn’s long water sounds and s… Beyond, are peaks where the mornin… An icy rose; and the evening leave…
Here is a tale for all who wish to… There was a thief who, in his cut-… Was hailed as chief; he had a way… Persuasion, masked, behind a weapo… That made it cockrow with each goo…
Amber and emerald, cairngorm and c… Stream through the autumn woods, s… Ways where the wahoo-bush brighten… And where the aster-stalk lifts it… Ways where the brier burns; poplar…
In the shadow of the beeches, Where the fragile wildflowers bloo… Where the pensive silence pleaches Green a roof of cool perfume, Have you felt an awe imperious
COME, let’s climb into our attic… In our house that’s old and gray! Life, you’re old and I’m rheumati… And—it’s close of day. Lay aside your rags and tatters,
This is the heart’s own day: With dreaming eyes Life seems to look away Beyond the skies Into some long-gone May.
The slow reflection of a woman’s f… Grew, as by witchcraft, in the ova… Of that strange glass on which the… As cruel as death beneath the aubu… The dark eyes burned; and, o’er th…
There is a place hung o’er of summ… And dreamy skies wherein the gray… Where water flows, within whose la… Like silvery prisms where the sunb… The minnows twinkle; where the bel…
A Sunbeam and a dropp of dew Lay on a red rose in the South: God took the three and made her mo… Her sweet, sweet mouth, So red of hue,
Wild clouds roll up, slag-dark and… And in the oaks the sere wind sobs… Weird as a word a man before he di… Mutters beneath his breath yet fea… The rain drives down; and by each…
The hush of death is on the night.… That loves to whisper to the wind;… That dance with it, are silent: on… No motion mid the fields, as dry a… What light is that? It cannot be…
There is no joy of earth that thri… My bosom like the far-off hills! Th’ unchanging hills, that, shadow… Beckon our mutability To follow and to gaze upon
There is a place (I know it well) Where beech trees crowd into a glo… And where a twinkling woodland wel… Flings from a rock a rippling plum… And, like a Faun beneath a spell,