#AmericanWriters #Epigram
Baron Castine of St. Castine Has left his château in the Pyre… And sailed across the western seas… When he went away from his fair de… The birds were building, the woods…
A wind came up out of the sea, And said, ‘O mists, make room for… It hailed the ships, and cried, ‘… Ye mariners, the night is gone.’ And hurried landward far away,
‘Strike the sails!’ King Olaf sai… ‘Never shall men of mine take flig… Never away from battle I fled, Never away from my foes! Let God dispose
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,
Where are the Poets, unto whom be… The Olympian heights; whose singi… Straight to the mark, and not from… But with the utmost tension of the… Where are the stately argosies of…
These are the tales those merry gu… Told to each other, well or ill; Like summer birds that lift their… Above the borders of their nests And twitter, and again are still.
In the long, sleepless watches of… A gentle face —the face of one lon… Looks at me from the wall, where r… The night—lamp casts a halo of pal… Here in this room she died; and so…
This song of mine Is a Song of the Vine, To be sung by the glowing embers Of wayside inns, When the rain begins
Who love would seek, Let him love evermore And seldom speak: For in love’s domain Silence must reign;
Nothing the greatest artist can co… That every marble block doth not c… Within itself; and only its design The hand that follows intellect ca… The ill I flee, the good that I b…
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,…
A fleet with flags arrayed Sailed from the port of Brest, And the Admiral’s ship displayed The signal: ‘Steer southwest.’ For this Admiral D’Anville
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.
Into the city of Kambalu, By the road that leadeth to Ispah… At the head of his dusty caravan, Laden with treasure from realms af… Baldacca and Kelat and Kandahar,
On the shores of Gitche Gumee, Of the shining Big-Sea-Water, Stood Nokomis, the old woman, Pointing with her finger westward, O’er the water pointing westward,