#AmericanWriters
I stood upon the hills, when heave… Was glorious with the sun’s return… And woods were brightened, and sof… Went forth to kiss the sun-clad va… The clouds were far beneath me; ba…
Little sweet wine of Jurançon, You are dear to my memory still! With mine host and his merry song, Under the rose-tree I drank my fi… Twenty years after, passing that w…
‘E venni dal martirio a questa pac… These words the poet heard in Par… Uttered by one who, bravely dying… In the true faith was living in th… Where the celestial cross of sacri…
Will then, Duperrier, thy sorrow… And shall the sad discourse Whispered within thy heart, by ten… Only augment its force? Thy daughter’s mournful fate, into…
In those days said Hiawatha, “Lo! how all things fade and peris… From the memory of the old men Pass away the great traditions, The achievements of the warriors,
A wind came up out of the sea, And said, ‘O mists, make room for… It hailed the ships, and cried, ‘… Ye mariners, the night is gone.’ And hurried landward far away,
Should you ask me, whence these stories? Whence these legends and tradition… With the odors of the forest With the dew and damp of meadows,
Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by… With banners, by great gales inces… Brighter than brightest silks of… And stately oxen harnessed to thy… Thou standest, like imperial Char…
STARS of the summer night! Far in yon azure deeps, Hide, hide your golden light! She sleeps! My lady sleeps!
NOW had the season returned, when… And the retreating sun the sign of… Birds of passage sailed through th… Desolate northern bays to the shor… Harvests were gathered in; and wil…
O precious evenings! all too swift… Leaving us heirs to amplest herita… Of all the best thoughts of the gr… And giving tongues unto the silent… How our hearts glowed and trembled…
‘The rivers rush into the sea, By castle and town they go; The winds behind them merrily Their noisy trumpets blow. ’The clouds are passing far and hi…
BENT like a laboring oar, that t… Bent, but not broken, by age was t… Shocks of yellow hair, like the si… Over his shoulders; his forehead w… Sat astride on his nose, with a lo…
Where are the Poets, unto whom be… The Olympian heights; whose singi… Straight to the mark, and not from… But with the utmost tension of the… Where are the stately argosies of…
Once upon Iceland’s solitary stra… A poet wandered with his book and… Seeking some final word, some swee… Wherewith to close the volume in h… The billows rolled and plunged upo…