#AmericanWriters
Why speak of Giamschid rubies Whence rosy starlight drips? I know a richer crimson, The ruby of her lips. Why speak of pearls of Oman
There is a place among the Cape A… That looks from fir-dark summits o… Whose surging sapphire changes con… Beneath deep heavens, Morning win… With golden calm, or sunset citade…
When on the mountain tops ray-crow… Turns his swift arrows, dart on gl… Let but a rock glint green, the wi… Glad-grazing shyly on each sparse-… Rolled into plunging torrents spri…
The drowsy day, with half-closed e… Dreams in this quaint forgotten st… That, like some old-world wreckage… Left by the sea’s receding beat, Far from the city’s restless feet.
Frail, shrunken face, so pinched a… That life has carved with care and… So weary waiting, night and morn, For that which never came about! Pale lamp, so utterly forlorn,
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-…
Globed in Heav’n’s tree of azure,… As some round apple hung High in hesperian boughs, thou han… The branch-like mists among: Within thy light a sunburnt youth,…
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…
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
Far as the eye can see, in domes a… Buttress and curve, ruins of shift… In whose wild making wind and sea… The white dunes stretch. The wind… Striving for strange effects that…
When dusk falls cool as a rained-o… And a tawny tower the twilight sho… With the crescent moon, the silver… new moon in a space that glows, A turret window that grows alight;
The white moth-mullein brushed its… Cool, faery flowers against his kn… In places where the way lay dim The branches, arching suddenly, Made tomblike mystery for him.
From 'One Day and Another’ What little things are those That hold our happiness! A smile, a glance, a rose Dropped from her hair or dress;
The old gate clicks, and down the… Between clove-pink and hollyhock, Still young of face though gray of… Among her garden’s flowers she goe… At evening’s close,
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…