#AmericanWriters
The wild oxalis Among the valleys Lifts up its chalice Of pink and pearl; And, balsam-breathing,
What magic through your snowy crys… Your hollow spar, Spring brims wi… That, like the cup of Comus, drug… This woodland place, so drowsed wi… What miracle evolved you from the…
On receiving a bottle of Sherry W… WHAT 'blushing Hippocrene’ is he… Of the 'warm South’ with magic of… Through which again I seem to vie… Of all Cervantes’ dreams, his hea…
The source of laughter lies so nea… And pain to rapture, that one foun… From forth the two Love’s; in who… The image of the Heaven each man…
All hushed of glee, The last chill bee Clings wearily To the dying aster. The leaves dropp faster:
Reconciliation LISTEN, dearest! you must love… More than you did before!— Hark, what a beating here of wings… Never at rest,
All day the primroses have thought… Their golden heads close-haremed f… All day the mystic moonflowers sil… Veiled snowy faces, that no bee mi… Or butterfly that, weighed with po…
Old days, old ways, old homes besi… Old gardens with old-fashioned flo… Poppy, petunia, and many a name Of many a flower of fragrant pedig… Old hills that glow with blue– and…
No more for him, where hills look… Shall Morning crown Her rainy brow with blossom bands!… The Morning Hours, whose rosy han… Drop wildflowers of the breaking s…
These are the things I pray Heave… To blow the ashes of the years awa… Or keep aglow forever 'neath their… The fire that warms when Life’s o… First Faith, that gazed into our…
Bee-Bitten in the orchard hung The peach; or, fallen in the weeds… Lay rotting, where still sucked an… The gray bee, boring to its seed’s Pink pulp and honey blackly stung.
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,
Here is a tale for men and women t… There was a girl who’d ceased to b… Who walked by night with heart lik… A child of sin anathemaed of preac… She had been lovely once; but dye…
Those were the days of doubt. How… It all comes back! This ribbon, s… Brings that far past so very near I lose my own identity, And seem two beings: one that’s he…
Leaves fall and flowers fade, Days come and go: Now is sweet Summer laid Low in her leafy glade, Low like a fragrant maid,