#AmericanWriters
Svend Dyring he rideth adown the… I myself was young! There he hath wooed him so winsome… Fair words gladden so many a heart… Together were they for seven years…
Saint Augustine! well hast thou s… That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of sham… All common things, each day’s even…
This song of mine Is a Song of the Vine, To be sung by the glowing embers Of wayside inns, When the rain begins
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…
When I compare What I have lost with what I have… What I have missed with what atta… Little room do I find for pride. I am aware
Simon Danz has come home again, From cruising about with his bucca… He has singed the beard of the Ki… And carried away the Dean of Jaen And sold him in Algiers.
Well pleased all listened to the t… That drew, the Student said, its… And marrow from the ancient myth Of some one with an iron flail; Or that portentous Man of Brass
The brooklet came from the mountai… As sang the bard of old, Running with feet of silver Over the sands of gold! Far away in the briny ocean
Northward over Drontheim, Flew the clamorous sea-gulls, Sang the lark and linnet From the meadows green; Weeping in her chamber,
Night rests in beauty on Mont Alt… Beneath its shade the beauteous A… In vallombrosa’s bosom, and dark t… Bend with a calm and quiet shadow… Upon the beauty of that silent riv…
In the village churchyard she lies… Dust is in her beautiful eyes, No more she breathes, nor feels, n… At her feet and at her head Lies a slave to attend the dead,
IN that delightful land, which is… Guarding in sylvan shades the name… Stands on the banks of its beautif… There all the air is balm, and the… And the streets still re-echo the…
FOUR times the sun had risen and… Cheerily called the cock to the sl… Soon o’er the yellow fields, in si… Came from the neighboring hamlets… Driving in ponderous wains their h…
Steer, bold mariner, on! albeit wi… And the steersman drop idly his ha… Ever, ever to westward! There mus… If it but lie distinct, luminous l… Trust to the God that leads thee,…
When the dying flame of day Through the chancel shot its ray, Far the glimmering tapers shed Faint light on the cowléd head; And the censer burning swung,