#AmericanWriters
Old homes among the hills! I love… Their old rock fences, that our da… Their doors, round which the great… Their paths, down which the shadow… Broad doors and paths that reach b…
I climbed a forest path and found A dim cave in the dripping ground, Where dwelt the spirit of cool sou… Who wrought with crystal triangles… And hollowed foam of rippled bells…
Love hath no place in her, Though in her bosom be Love-thoughts and dreams that stir Longings that know not me: Love hath no place in her,
The day is dead; and in the west The slender crescent of the moon Diana’s crystal-kindled crest Sinks hillward in a silvery swoon. What is the murmur in the dell?
A mile of moonlight and the whispe… A mile of shadow and the odorous l… One large, white star above the so… Like one sweet wish: and, laughter… Wild-roses wistful in a web of rai…
This is the lesson I have learned… Who gathers flowers finds that flo… Who sets love in his heart above h… Misses the part for which that lov… Than passion, haply, there is noth…
It is the time when, by the forest… The touch-me-nots hang fairy folly… When ferns and flowers fill the li… Of rocks with colour, rich as orie… And in my heart I hear a voice th…
The ant is busy with its house, The bee is at its tree; And by its nest among the boughs The bird makes melody. The Day, reluctant still to leave…
Hearts, that have cheered us ever,… With words that helped us on the r… The hard, long road of life to who… More than the heart can ever hope… Are they not touchstones, soul-tra…
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…
As I went through the wood, the w… Through fern and pimpernel, A water fell, a water stood, Twinkling within a dell, And Naiad fancies, gleaming, hung
Let down the bars; drive in the co… The west is barred with burning ro… Unhitch the horses from the plough… And from the cart the ox that lows… And light the lamp within the hous…
IMPERIAL Madness, will of hand… Builds vast an altar here, and rea… Before the world, on godly land, A Moloch form of blood and tears. And far as eye can see, behold,
The cactus and the aloe bloom Beneath the window of your room; Your window where, at evenfall, Beneath the twilight’s first pale… You linger, tall and spiritual,
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…