#AmericanWriters #Epigram
How they so softly rest, All they the holy ones, Unto whose dwelling-place Now doth my soul draw near! How they so softly rest,
On sunny slope and beechen swell, The shadowed light of evening fell… And, where the maple’s leaf was br… With soft and silent lapse came do… The glory, that the wood receives,
The day is ending, The night is descending; The marsh is frozen, The river dead. Through clouds like ashes
Often I think of the beautiful to… That is seated by the sea; Often in thought go up and down The pleasant streets of that dear… And my youth comes back to me.
Lo! in the painted oriel of the W… Whose panes the sunken sun incarna… Like a fair lady at her casement,… The evening star, the star of love… And then anon she doth herself div…
In the market-place of Bruges sta… Thrice consumed and thrice rebuild… As the summer morn was breaking, o… And the world through off the dark… Thick with towns and hamlets studd…
One day, Haroun Al Raschid read A book wherein the poet said:— “Where are the kings, and where th… Of those who once the world posses… ”They’re gone with all their pomp…
I like that ancient Saxon phrase,… The burial-ground God’s-Acre! It… It consecrates each grave within i… And breathes a benison o’er the sl… God’s-Acre! Yes, that blessed nam…
There sat one day in quiet, By an alehouse on the Rhine, Four hale and hearty fellows, And drank the precious wine. The landlord’s daughter filled the…
Listen, my children, and you shall… Of the midnight ride of Paul Reve… On the eighteenth of April, in 'S… Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and…
Ah me! ah me! when thinking of the… The vanished years, alas, I do no… Among them all one day that was my… Fallacious hope; desires of the un… Lamenting, loving, burning, and in…
Maiden! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Like the dusk in evening skies! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Golden tresses, wreathed in one,
Among the many lives that I have… None I remember more serene and s… More rounded in itself and more co… Than his, who lies beneath this fu… These pines, that murmur in low mo…
The night is come, but not too soo… And sinking silently, All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky. There is no light in earth or heav…
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