#AmericanWriters
With argosies of dawn he sails, And triremes of the dusk, The Seas of Song, whereon the gal… Are myths that trail wild musk. He hears the hail of Siren bands
There is a place (I know it well) Where beech trees crowd into a glo… And where a twinkling woodland wel… Flings from a rock a rippling plum… And, like a Faun beneath a spell,
Old Man Rain at the windowpane Knocks and fumbles and knocks agai… His long-nailed fingers slip and s… Old Man Rain at the windowpane Knocks all night but knocks in vai…
From the idyll 'Wild Thorn and L… O Maytime woods! O Maytime lanes… And stars, that knew how often the… Beside the path, where woodbine od… Between the drowsy eyelids of the…
There is a place I search for sti… Sequestered as the world of dreams… A bushy hollow, and a hill That whispers with descending stre… Cool, careless waters, wandering d…
What were this life without her? Joy, whose young face is sweet With dreams that flit about her, And rapture wild of feet! With hope, that knows no languor,
This is the path he used to take, That ended at a rose-porched door: He takes it now for oldtime’s sake… And love of yore. The blue mertensia, by the stone,
Here’s the tale my father told, Walking in the park one night, When the stars shone big and brigh… And the autumn wind blew cold: Once a giant lived of old
THE season of the rose and peace… It could not last. There’s heartbreak in the hills an… Of sorrow in the rain-lashed plain… While Earth regards, aghast,
Pessimist There is never a thing we dream or… But was dreamed and done in the ag… Everything’s old; there is nothing… And so it will be while the world…
Dark, drear, and drizzly, with vap… The day goes dully unto its close; Its wet robe smutches each thing i… Its fingers sully and wreck the ro… Around the railing and garden-pali…
Made a face of biscuit-dough, Which our black cook gave me once; And this girl named So-and-So Said ‘t was funnier than a dunce. And she took it; put it on
And he had mused on lands each bir… That winged from realms of Faleri… O’er seas of the Enchanted Sword, In romance sang him, till he heard Vague foam on Islands of Alcina.
’Twas when the wind was blowing fr… The grey and stormy sea, I heard… And in the woods and on the ways w… And weeds were rustling brown, I caught a glimpse of face and fee…
ONE blossoming rose-tree, like a… Nursed in a broken mind, that wait… Survives, though shattered, and ab… The strangling dodder streams. Gaunt weeds: and here a bayonet or…