#AmericanWriters
Here is a tale for proper men and… There was a woman once who had a d… A fair-faced wench, as stable as i… And frailer than the first spring… She did not need to work, but then…
Well, what of it then, if your hea… Of the world’s neglect? and the sm… Of doubt, blown into your eyes, ma… And the sting of the goad, The merciless goad of scorn,
I saw the spirit of the pines that… With spirits of the ocean and the… Against the tumult rose its tatter… Wild rain and darkness round it li… Fearful it stood, limbed like some…
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…
Here is a tale for ladies with rom… There was an owl; composer and mus… Who looked as wise as if he had a… And at all art cast supercilious g… People proclaimed him great becaus…
A disc of violet blue, Rimmed with a thorn of fire, The new moon hangs in a sky of dew… And under the vines, where the sun… Is blent with blossoms, first one,…
The cuckoo-sorrel paints with pink The green page of the meadow-land Around a pool where thrushes drink As from a hollowed hand. A hill, long-haired with leathered…
THE gentian and the bluebell so Can change my calendar, I know not how the year may go, Or what the seasons are: The months, in some mysterious wis…
All day the primroses have thought… Their golden heads close-haremed f… All day the mystic moonflowers sil… Veiled snowy faces, that no bee mi… Or butterfly that, weighed with po…
The lake she haunts gleams dreamil… ‘Twixt sleepy boughs of melody, Set ’mid the hills beside the sea, In tangled bush and brier; Where the ghostly sunsets write
I Heard his step upon the moss; I glimpsed his shadow in the strea… And thrice I saw the brambles tos… Wherein he vanished like a dream. A great beech aimed a giant stroke
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
She was a queen. 'Midst mutes and… A mameluke, he loved her.—Waves Dashed not more hopelessly the pav… Of her high marble palace-stair Than lashed his love his heart’s d…
Beneath an old beech-tree They sat together, Fair as a flower was she Of summer weather. They spoke of life and love,
The pink rose drops its petals on The moonlit lawn, the moonlit lawn… The moon, like some wide rose of w… Drops down the summer night. No rose there is