#AmericanWriters
The hillside smokes With trailing mist around the rosy… While sunset builds A gorgeous Asia in the west she g… Auroral streaks
One with the Heaven above Am I its bliss: Part of its truth and love, And what God is. I heal the soul and mind:
Above her, pearl and rose the heav… Around her, flowers flattered eart… Or down the path in insolence held… Like cavaliers who ride the king’s… Scarlet and buff, within a garden…
Over the rocks she trails her lock… Her mossy locks that drip, drip, d… Her sparkling eyes smile at the sk… In friendship-wise and fellowship: While the gleam and glance of her…
The vat-like cups of the fungus, f… With the rain that fell last night… Are casks of wine that the elves d… For revels the moon did light. The owlet there with her ‘Who-oh-…
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
How long had I sat there and had… The gleam of the glow-worm till so… The heaven was starless, the fores… And the vistas of darkness stretch… And late ‘mid the trees had I lin…
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,
With soul self-blind Do n’t struggle on merely at last… The best of life, the dream, is le… Why desperately! Struggle and strive? after long ye…
TEACH me the secret of thy lovel… That, being made wise, I may aspi… As beautiful in thought, and so ex… Immortal truths to earth’s mortali… Though to my soul ability be less
UPON the iron crags of War I he… In battle speak while at their fee… In gulfs of human waters, A voice, intoning, ‘Where is God?… And to my heart, in doubt, I said…
Thou pulse of hotness, who, with r… Makest meridian music, long and lo… Accentuating summer! dost thy best To make the sunbeams fiercer, and… With lonesomeness the long, close…
Wherein is it so beautiful? In all things dim and all things c… In silence, that is built of leave… And wind and spray of waterfall; And, golden as the half-ripe sheav…
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 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