#AmericanWriters
An Ode to be read on the laying o… stone of the new Oglethorpe Unive… January, 1915, at Atlanta, Georgia AS when with oldtime passion for…
Around its mountain many footpaths… But only one unto its top attains; Not he who searches closest, takes… But he who seeks not, that one way…
I dream again I 'm in the lane That leads me home through night a… Again the fence I see and, dense, The garden, wet and sweet of sense… Then mother’s window, with its sta…
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,…
All hushed of glee, The last chill bee Clings wearily To the dying aster. The leaves dropp faster:
I saw the Summer through her gard… A marigold hung in her auburn hair… Her brown arms heaped with harvest… Of poppied plenty, like the peach… Among the pepper-pods, in scarlet…
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
Clouds of the autumn night, Under the hunter’s moon, Ghostly and windy white, Whither, like leaves wild strewn, Take ye your stormy flight?
The dawn is a warp of fever, The eve is a woof of fire; And the month is a singing weaver Weaving a red desire. With stars Dawn dices with Even
There is a scent of roses and spil… Between the moonlight and the laur… The marble idol glimmers on its sh… White as a star, among a heaven of… Here all my life lies like a spilt…
Noera, when sad Fall Has grayed the fallow; Leaf-cramped the wood-brook’s braw… In pool and shallow; When, by the woodside, tall
Push back the brambles, berry-blue… The hollowed spring is full in vie… Deep-tangled with luxuriant fern Its rock-embedded, crystal urn. Not for the loneliness that keeps
There’s a boy who lives next door; And this boy is just as bad As a boy can be; and poor! He’s so poor it makes me sad When I see him. Out at knee;
She walks the woods, when evening… With spirits of the winds and leav… And to her side the soul she calls Of every flower she perceives. She walks with introspective eyes
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…