#AmericanWriters
‘T is n’t long till Christmas now… First thing that you’ll know, it’s… Nurse can tell it, don’t know how, By the smell o’ th’ atmosphere, Shivery and never clear.
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…
A lonely barn, lost in a field of… A fallen fence, where partly hangs… The skies are darkening and the ho… The Indian dusk comes, red in rai… Along a path, which from a woodlan…
There was once a little boy— So my father told me—who Never cared for any toy, But just sweet things, as boys do, Cakes and comfits, cream and ice,
A friend for you and a friend for… A friend to understand; To cheer the way and help the day With heart as well as hand: With heart as well as hand, my dea…
O Days that hold us; and years th… And dreams and mem’ries no time de… Where lie the islands, the morning… And where the highlands we knew wh… Oh, tell us, whether the happy hea…
Below, the tawny Tagus swept Past royal gardens, breathing balm… Upon his couch the monarch slept; The world was still; the night was… Gray, Gothic-gated, in the ray
I HAD forgot how, in my day The Sabine fields around me lay In amaranth and asphodel, With many a cold Bandusian well Bright-bubbling by the mountain-wa…
The spring may come in her pomp an… And Summer follow with rain and r… Or Fall lead in that old offender… Winter, close-huddled up in snows: Ever a-South the Love-wind blows
Thou sit’st among the sunny silenc… Of terraced hills and woodland gal… Thou utterance of all calm melodie… Thou lutanist of Earth’s most aff… Where no false note intrudes
The days that clothed white limbs… And rocked the red rose on their b… Have passed with amber-sandaled fe… Into the ruby-gated west. These were the days that filled th…
Last night we were kept awake. Could n’t sleep for Old Jack Fro… Wandering round like some old ghos… Gave the door an awful shake; Knocked against my bed’s brass pos…
He was not learned in any art; But Nature led him by the hand; And spoke her language to his hear… So he could hear and understand: He loved her simply as a child;
With a look and a laugh where the… September led me along the land; Where the golden-rod and lobelia,… Seemed burning torches within her… And faint as the thistle’s or milk…
The flute, whence Summer’s dreamy… Drew music, ripening the pinched k… The burly chestnut and the chinqua… Red-rounding-out the oval haws and… Now Winter crushes to his stormy…