#AmericanWriters
Sweet babe! true portrait of thy f… Sleep on the bosom that thy lips h… Sleep, little one; and closely, ge… Thy drowsy eyelid on thy mother’s… Upon that tender eye, my little fr…
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,…
In the market—place of Bruges sta… Thrice consumed and thrice rebuild… town. As the summer morn was breaking, o… And the world threw off the darkne…
By the shore of Gitche Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, At the doorway of his wigwam, In the pleasant Summer morning, Hiawatha stood and waited.
Come, old friend! sit down and lis… From the pitcher, placed between u… How the waters laugh and glisten In the head of old Silenus! Old Silenus, bloated, drunken,
I stood on the bridge at midnight, As the clocks were striking the ho… And the moon rose o’er the city, Behind the dark church—tower. I saw her bright reflection
IT was the month of May. Far dow… Past the Ohio shore and past the… Into the golden stream of the broa… Floated a cumbrous boat, that was… It was a band of exiles: a raft, a…
What say the Bells of San Blas To the ships that southward pass From the harbor of Mazatlan? To them it is nothing more Than the sound of surf on the shor…
In the old churchyard of his nativ… And in the ancestral tomb beside t… We laid him in the sleep that come… And left him to his rest and his r… The snow was falling, as if Heave…
O let the soul her slumbers break, Let thought be quickened, and awak… Awake to see How soon this life is past and gon… And death comes softly stealing on…
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.
There is a quiet spirit in these w… That dwells where’er the gentle so… Where, underneath the white-thorn,… The wild flowers bloom, or, kissin… The leaves above their sunny palms…
(Tristia, Book III. Elegy X.) Should any one there in Rome reme… And, without me, my name still in… Tell him that under stars which ne… I am existing still, here in a bar…
Gentle Spring! in sunshine clad, Well dost thou thy power display! For Winter maketh the light heart… And thou, thou makest the sad hear… He sees thee, and calls to his glo…
There is no flock, however watched… But one dead lamb is there! There is no fireside, howsoe’er de… But has one vacant chair! The air is full of farewells to th…