#AmericanWriters
Deep-hearted roses of the purple d… And lilies of the morn; And cactus, holding up a slender t… Of fragrance on a thorn; All heavy flowers, sultry with the…
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…
The little tents the wildflowers r… Are tabernacles where Love prays And Beauty preaches all the days. I walk the woodland through and th… And everywhere I see their blue
March set heel upon the flowers, Trod and trampled them for hours: But when April’s bugles rang, Up their starry legions sprang, Radiant in the sun-shot showers.
The bitter-sweet and red-haw in he… And in her hair pale berries of th… She haunts the coves and every Ca… The Indian, Autumn, wandered from… Beside the sea, upon a rock, she s…
Out of the East, as from an unkno… Thou comest with thy children in t… Slumber and Dream, whom mortals a… Their flowing raiment sculptured t… Soft on thy breast thy lovely chil…
Globed in Heav’n’s tree of azure,… As some round apple hung High in hesperian boughs, thou han… The branch-like mists among: Within thy light a sunburnt youth,…
Three miles of trees it is: and I Came through the woods that waited… For the cool summer dusk to come; And lingered there to watch the sk… Up which the gradual splendor clom…
Far to the South a star, Bright-shining over all; And a sound of voices singing, ‘Round a Babe in an ox’s-stall. Three Kings a-riding, riding,
Here among the beeches Winds and wild perfume, That the twilight pleaches Into gleam and gloom, Build for her a room.
High on a throne of noisome ooze a… ‘Mid rotting trees of bayou and la… Ghastly she sits beneath the skele… A tawny horror coiling at her feet Fever, whose eyes keep watching, s…
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…
They come as couriers of Heaven:… Sonorous-sandalled with majestic a… In raiment of swift foam and wind… Blowing the trumpets of God’s wra…
THE WIND IN THE PINES WHEN winds go organing through t… On hill and headland, darkly gleam… Meseems I hear sonorous lines Of Iliads that the woods are drea…
A tranquil bar Of rosy twilight under dusk’s firs… A glimmering sound Of whispering waters over grassy g… A sun-sweet smell