#AmericanWriters #Epigram
When the warm sun, that brings Seed—time and harvest, has returne… 'T is sweet to visit the still woo… The first flower of the plain. I love the season well,
Pleasant it was, when woods were g… And winds were soft and low, To lie amid some sylvan scene. Where, the long drooping boughs be… Shadows dark and sunlight sheen
When the long murmur of applause That greeted the Musician’s lay Had slowly buzzed itself away, And the long talk of Spectre Ship… That followed died upon their lips
The summer sun is sinking low; Only the tree-tops redden and glow… Only the weathercock on the spire Of the neighboring church is a fla… All is in shadow below.
At La Chaudeau,—'tis long since t… I was young,—my years twice ten; All things smiled on the happy boy… Dreams of love and songs of joy, Azure of heaven and wave below,
Peradventure of old, some bard in… Walking alone by the sea, hearing… Learned the secret from them of th… Breathing into his song motion and… For as the wave of the sea, upheav…
Never stoops the soaring vulture On his quarry in the desert, On the sick or wounded bison, But another vulture, watching From his high aerial look-out,
THE WORKSHOP OF HEPHAES… HEPHAESTUS (standing before t… Not fashioned out of gold, like H… Nor forged of iron like the thunde… Of Zeus omnipotent, or other work…
Sir Oluf he rideth over the plain… Full seven miles broad and seven m… But never, ah never, can meet with… A tilt with him dare ride. He saw under the hill-side
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,
It was Sir Christopher Gardiner, Knight of the Holy Sepulchre, From Merry England over the sea, Who stepped upon this continent As if his august presence lent
The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village
(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…
Of Prometheus, how undaunted On Olympus’ shining bastions His audacious foot he planted, Myths are told and songs are chant… Full of promptings and suggestions…
He ended: and a kind of spell Upon the silent listeners fell. His solemn manner and his words Had touched the deep, mysterious c… That vibrate in each human breast