#AmericanWriters
I Saw the day like some great mon… Gold-couched, behind the clouds’ r… Then, purple-sandaled, clad in sil… Of sleep, through halls of skyey l… The twilight, like a mourning quee…
In the waste places, in the dreadf… When the wood whispers like a wand… And silence sits and listens to th… Or, 'mid the rocks, to some wild t… Bat-browed thou wadest with thy wi…
WHAT shall her silence keep Under the sun? Here, where the willows weep And waters run; Here, where she lies asleep,
Wild son of Heav’n, with laughter… Now East, now West, now North, n… Bearing in one harsh hand dark dea… And in the other, sunshine and a r…
In some glad way I know thereof: A garden glows down in my heart, Wherein I meet and often part With many an ancient tale of love A Romeo garden, banked with bloom…
How good it is, when overwrought, To seek the woods and find a thoug… That to the soul’s attentive sense Delivers much in evidence Of truths for which man long has s…
The deep seclusion of this forest… O’er which the green boughs weave… Along which bluet and anemone Spread dim a carpet; where the Tw… Her cool abode; and, sweet as afte…
To me not only does her soul sugge… Palms and the peace of tropic shor… But, oceaned far beyond the golden… The Fortunate Islands of true Wo…
This was her home; one mossy gable… Above the cedars and the locust tr… This was her home, whose beauty no… A lonely memory for melodies The wild birds sing, the wild bird…
A shadow glided down the way Where sunset groped among the tree… And all the woodland bower, asway With trouble of the evening breeze… A shape, it moved with head held d…
Out, out in the open fields, Where the great, green book of Go… The book that its wisdom yields To each soul that is not a clod, Lies wide for the world to read,
There is nothing at all to do to-d… I can’t go out and run and play; For it’s raining and snowing and s… And Old Man Winter he is to blam… And I just sit here and think it…
Old homes among the hills! I love… Their old rock fences, that our da… Their doors, round which the great… Their paths, down which the shadow… Broad doors and paths that reach b…
Pale faces looked up at me, up fro… Pale hands reached down to me, out… As over the hills, robed on with t… The Day’s last Hours, departed, a… Pale fingers beckoned me on; pale…
If it so befalls that the midnight… In mist no moonlight breaks, The leagues of the years my spirit… And my self myself forsakes. And I live in a land of stars and…