#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #PoemsOfPower
There was a sound in the wind to-d… Like a joyous cymbal ringing! And the leaves of the trees talked… And they altogether were singing, For they knew that an army, both b…
It is a common fate ' a woman’… To waste on one the riches of her… Who takes the wealth she gives him… Repay the interest, and much less… As I look up into your eyes, and…
Heigh Ho! Well, the season’s ov… Once again we’ve come to Lent! Programme’s changes from balls a… Now we’re ordered to repent. Forty days of self-denial!
The first flower of the spring is… Or bright, as one the ripe midsumm… The first faint note the forest wa… Is not as rich with feeling, or so… As when, full master of his art, t…
If I could clasp my little babe Upon my breast to-night, I would not mind the blowing wind That shrieketh in affright. Oh, my lost babe! my little babe,
Oh! the maidens of France are cer… And I think every fellow will sta… That the 'what-you-may-call-it’ co… They put up their hair is great! And they know how to dress, and th…
Long have the poets vaunted, in th… Old times, old loves, old friendsh… Why should the old monopolise all… Then let the new claim mine. Give me strong new friends, when t…
Though critics may bow to art, and… It is not art, but heart, which wi… Though smooth be the heartless pra… And the finest phrase falls dead i… Though perfect the player’s touch,…
O man, with your wonderful dower, O woman, with genius and grace, You can teach the whole world with… If you are but worthy the place. The stage is a force and a factor
The winds came out of the west one… And hurried the clouds before them… And drove the shadows and mists aw… And over the mountains bore them. And I wept, ‘Oh, wind, blow into…
I step across the mystic border-la… And look upon the wonder-world of… How beautiful, how beautiful its h… And all its valleys, how surpassin… The winding paths that lead up to…
The Poker proposed to the shovel That they should be man and wife, ‘I think,’ said he, ‘that we could… As we journey along through life.’ The Shovel blushed as she answere…
Wherefore in dreams are sorrows bo… A healed wound opened, or the past… Last night in my deep sleep I dre… Again the old love woke in me, and… On looks of fire, and kisses, and…
I gave a beggar from my little sto… Of well-earned gold. He spent th… And came again, and yet again, sti… And hungry, as before. I gave a thought, and through that…
Sometimes when I have dropped asl… Draped in soft luxurious gloom, Across my drowsy mind will creep The memory of another room, Where resinous knots in roofboards…