#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #PoemsOfPower
So many gods, so many creeds, So many paths that wind and wind, While just the art of being kind, Is all the sad world needs.
Ah yes, I love you, and with all… Just as a weaker woman loves her o… Better than I love my beloved art… Which, until you came, reigned roy… My king, my master. Since I saw y…
The father sits in his lonely room… Outside sings a little bird. But the shadows are laden with dea… And the song is all unheard. The father’s heart is the home of…
Over my desk in a dark office bend… Dim seems the sunlight and dull se… But when the afternoon draws towar… Here waits my steel steed-I mount… Like cobwebs of silver I see in t…
You who are loudly crying out for… You who are wanting love to vanqui… How is it in the four walls of you… The while you wait? Do those who form your household w…
In a mansion grand, just over the… Lives bonny, beautiful Dell; You may have heard of this lady ga… For she is a famous belle. I live in a low cot opposite,
We love but once. The great gold… From dawn to eventide doth cast hi… But the full splendour of his perf… Is reached but once throughout the… We love but once. The waves, wit…
Should some great angel say to me… “Thou must re-tread thy pathway fr… But God will grant, in pity, for… Some one dear wish, the nearest to… This were my wish! from my life’s…
The impulse of all love is to crea… God was so full of love, in his em… He clasped the empty nothingness o… And low! the solar system! High i… The mighty sun sat, so supreme and…
Nay, seer, I do not doubt thy mys… Nor question that the tenor of my… Past, present and the future, is r… There in my horoscope. I do beli… That yon dead moon compels the hau…
Dear Love, where the red lilies b… The white snows are falling; And all through the woods where I… The loud winds are calling; And the robin that piped to us tun…
Sitting alone by the window, Watching the moonlit street, Bending my head to listen To the well-known sound of your fe… I have been wondering, darling,
When you go away, my friend, When you say your last good-bye, Then the summer time will end, And the winter will be nigh. Though the green grass decks the h…
The saddest hour of anguish and of… Is not that season of supreme desp… When we can find no least light an… To gild the dread, black shadow of… Not in that luxury of sorrow when
Before this scarf was faded, What hours of mirth it knew; How gayly it paraded From smiling eyes to view. The days were tinged with glory,