#AmericanWriters
She walks with the wind on the win… When the rocks are loud and the wa… And all night long she calls throu… ‘O my children, come home!’ Her bleak gown, torn as a tattered…
Clouds of the autumn night, Under the hunter’s moon, Ghostly and windy white, Whither, like leaves wild strewn, Take ye your stormy flight?
There is a woodland witch who lies With bloom-bright limbs and beam-b… Among the water-flags that rank The slow brook’s heron-haunted ban… The dragon-flies, brass-bright and…
Spurge and sea-pink, hyssop blue, Dragonhead of purple hue; Catnip, frosted green and gray, With blue butterflies a-sway, These may point you out the way.
Darkly October; Where the wild fo… Utters a harsh and melancholy cry; And slowly closing, far a sunset d… Day wildly glares upon.the world o… Where Twilight, with one star to…
Dark in the west the sunset’s somb… Unrolled vast walls the rams of wa… Along whose battlements the battle… Tempestuous beacons; and, with gat… A mighty city, red with ruin and s…
When the poppies, with their shiel… Sentinel Forest and the harvest fields, In the bell Of a blossom, fair to see,
Wild ridge on ridge the wooded hil… Between whose breezy vistas gulfs… Pilot great clouds like towering a… And hawk and buzzard breast the az… With many a foaming fall and glimm…
HE found the long room as it was… Glimmering with sunset’s gold; That made the tapestries seem full… Strange with a wild surmise: Glaring upon a Psyche where she s…
Sometimes, when I’m gone to-bed, And it’s all dark in the room, Seems I hear somebody tread Heavy, rustling through the gloom: And then something there goes ‘boo…
Dull, dimly gleaming, The dawn looks downward Where, flowing townward, The river, steaming With mist, is hidden:
Not into these dark cities, These sordid marts and streets, That the sun in his rising pities, And the moon with sorrow greets, Does she, with her dreams and flow…
Take Heart Take heart again. Joy may be lost… It is not always Spring. And even now from some far Summer… Hither the birds may wing.
When dusk is drowned in drowsy dre… And slow the hues of sunset die; When firefly and moth go by, And in still streams the new moon… Another moon and sky:
I heard the forest’s green heart b… As if it heard the happy feet Of one who came, like young Desir… At whose fair coming birds and flo… Sprang up, and Beauty, filled wit…