#AmericanWriters
Who hath beheld the goddess face t… Blind with her beauty, all his day… Climbing lone mountains towards he… Weighed with song’s sweet, inexora…
There’s a little girl I know And we call her So-and-So. She is neither good nor bad Good enough for me although! Never saw a girl that had
I can’t get up with the chickens; I can’t get up at dark: And what do I care for the early… And what do I care for the lark? I can’t do this or that thing;
A SHADOW glided down the way Where sunset groped among the tree… And all the woodland bower, asway With trouble of the evening breeze… A shape, it moved with head held d…
The teasel and the horsemint sprea… The hillside as with sunset, sown With blossoms, o’er the Standing-… That ripples in its rocky bed: There are no treasuries that hold
Like some gaunt ghost the tempest… Outside my door; its icy nails Beat on the pane: and Night and S… Around the house, with furious fla… Of wind, from which the slant slee…
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 night is loud with reeds of ra… Rejoicing at my window-pane, And murmuring, ‘Spring comes agai… I hear the wind take up their song And on the sky’s vibrating gong
A grey, bald hillside, bristling h… With leprous-looking grass, that,… Slopes to a valley where a wild st… And every bush seems tortured to d… And shows its teeth of thorns as i…
When blood-root blooms and trilliu… Unclasp their stars to sun and rai… My heart strikes hands with winds… And wanders in the woods again. O urging impulse, born of spring,
From an ode ‘In Commemoration of… Massachusetts Bay Colony.’ The morn that breaks its heart of… Above the purple hills; The eve, that spills
The mellow smell of hollyhocks And marigolds and pinks and phlox Blends with the homely garden scen… Of onions, silvering into rods; Of peppers, scarlet with their pod…
They are the wise who look before, Nor fear to look behind; Who in the darkness still ignore Pale shadows of the mind. Who, having lost, though loss be m…
Miranda-like, above the world she… The wand of Prospero; and, beauti… Ariel the airy, Caliban the dull, Lightning and steam, are her unwil…
We were a crew of what you please, Men with the lust of gold gone mad… Dutch and Yankee and Portuguese, With a nigger or two from Trinida… The scum of the Caribbees: