#AmericanWriters #Epigram
Saint Augustine! well hast thou s… That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of sham… All common things, each day’s even…
In the heroic days when Ferdinand And Isabella ruled the Spanish la… And Torquemada, with his subtle b… Ruled them, as Grand Inquisitor o… In a great castle near Valladolid…
And now along the horizon’s edge Mountains of cloud uprose, Black as with forests underneath, Above their sharp and jagged teeth Were white as drifted snows.
The Archbishop, whom God loved in… Beheld his wounds all bleeding fre… And then his cheek more ghastly gr… And a faint shudder through his me… Upon the battle-field his knee was…
Thou, too, sail on, O Ship of St… Sail on, O Union, strong and grea… Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years… Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
They made the warrior’s grave besi… The dashing of his native time: And there was mourning in the glen… The strong wail of a thousand men— O’er him thus fallen in his pride,
Full of wrath was Hiawatha When he came into the village, Found the people in confusion, Heard of all the misdemeanors, All the malice and the mischief,
Four limpid lakes,—four Naiades Or sylvan deities are these, In flowing robes of azure dressed; Four lovely handmaids, that uphold Their shining mirrors, rimmed with…
A handful of red sand, from the ho… Of Arab deserts brought, Within this glass becomes the spy… The minister of Thought. How many weary centuries has it be…
It was fifty years ago In the pleasant month of May, In the beautiful Pays de Vaud, A child in its cradle lay. And Nature, the old nurse, took
And King Olaf heard the cry, Saw the red light in the sky, Laid his hand upon his sword, As he leaned upon the railing, And his ships went sailing, sailin…
Touched by the pathos of these rhy… The Theologian said: ‘All praise Be to the ballads of old times And to the bards of simple ways, Who walked with Nature hand in ha…
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
PLEASANTLY rose next morn the… Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sw… Where the ships, with their waveri… Life had long been astir in the vi… Knocked with its hundred hands at…
I am the God Thor, I am the War God, I am the Thunderer! Here in my Northland, My fastness and fortress,