#AmericanWriters #Epigram
'Hads’t thou stayed, I must have… That is what the Vision said. In his chamber all alone, Kneeling on the floor of stone, Prayed the Monk in deep contritio…
Othere, the old sea—captain, Who dwelt in Helgoland, To King Alfred, the Lover of Tru… Brought a snow—white walrus—tooth, Which he held in his brown right h…
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…
Spring is coming, birds are twitte… And the loosened torrents downward… Glowing like the cheek of Freya,… And in human hearts awaken love of… Now will hunt the ancient monarch,…
In those days the Evil Spirits, All the Manitos of mischief, Fearing Hiawatha’s wisdom, And his love for Chibiabos, Jealous of their faithful friendsh…
Annie of Tharaw, my true love of… She is my life, and my goods, and… Annie of Tharaw, her heart once a… To me has surrendered in joy and i… Annie of Tharaw, my riches, my go…
DEVEREUX FARM, NEAR M… We sat within the farm-house old, Whose windows, looking o’er the ba… Gave to the sea-breeze damp and co… An easy entrance, night and day.
Sweet as the tender fragrance that… When martyred flowers breathe out… Sweet as a song that once consoled… But never will be sung to us again… Is thy remembrance. Now the hour…
An old man in a lodge within a par… The chamber walls depicted all aro… With portraitures of huntsman, haw… And the hurt deer. He listeneth t… Whose song comes with the sunshine…
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…
Into the Silent Land! Ah! who shall lead us thither? Clouds in the evening sky more dar… And shattered wrecks lie thicker o… Who leads us with a gentle hand
STARS of the summer night! Far in yon azure deeps, Hide, hide your golden light! She sleeps! My lady sleeps!
On the green little isle of Inchk… Who is it that walks by the shore, So gay with his Highland blue bon… So brave with his targe and claymo… His form is the form of a giant,
Somewhat back from the village str… Stands the old—fashioned country—s… Across its antique portico Tall poplar—trees their shadows th… And from its station in the hall
_Prince Henry_. God’s blessing on… The bridges o’er swift rivers and… Before impassable to human feet, No less than on the builders of ca… Whose massive walls are bridges th…