#AmericanWriters
The rocky nook with hilltops three Looked eastward from the farms, And twice each day the flowing sea Took Boston in its arms; The men of yore were stout and poo…
By the rude bridge that arched the… Their flag to April’s breeze unfu… Here once the embattled farmers st… And fired the shot heard round the… The foe long since in silence slep…
The sun goes down, and with him ta… The coarseness of my por attire; The fair moon mounts, and aye the… Of Gypsy beauty blazes higher. Pale Northern girls! you scorn ou…
Daughter of Heaven and Earth, coy… With sudden passion languishing, Maketh all things softly smile, Painteth pictures mile on mile, Holds a cup with cowslip—wreaths,
It is time to be old, To take in sail:— The god of bounds, Who sets to seas a shore, Came to me in his fatal rounds,
I cannot spare water or wine, Tobacco—leaf, or poppy, or rose; From the earth—poles to the Line, All between that works or grows, Every thing is kin of mine.
SOME of the hurts you have cured… And the sharpest you still have su… But what torments of grief you end… From evils which never arrived!
“May be true what I had heard, Earth’s a howling wilderness Truculent with fraud and force,” Said I, strolling through the pas… And along the riverside.
I mourn upon this battle—field, But not for those who perished her… Behold the river—bank Whither the angry farmers came, In sloven dress and broken rank,
The sinful painter drapes his godd… Because she still is naked, being… The godlike sculptor will not so d… Beauty, which bones and flesh enou…
Venus, when her son was lost, Cried him up and down the coast, In hamlets, palaces, and parks, And told the truant by his marks, Golden curls, and quiver, and bow;…
SHINES the last age, the next w… To—day slinks poorly off unmarked… Future or Past no richer secret f… O friendless Present! than thy bo…
I hung my verses in the wind, Time and tide their faults may fin… All were winnowed through and thro… Five lines lasted sound and true; Five were smelted in a pot
A ruddy drop of manly blood The surging sea outweighs, The world uncertain comes and goes… The lover rooted stays. I fancied he was fled,—
Winters know Easily to shed the snow, And the untaught Spring is wise In cowslips and anemones. Nature, hating art and pains,