#AmericanWriters
Brown was my friend, and faithful’… He came to see me in the twilight… I rose politely and invited him To take a seat’how heavily he sa… He sat upon the sofa, where my hat…
I loved a little maiden In the golden years gone by; She lived in a mill, as they all d… (There is doubtless a reason why). But she faded in the autumn
Ever to be the best. To lead In whatsoever things are true; Not stand among the halting crew The faint of heart, the feeble-kne… Who tarry for a certain sign
Sleep flies me like a lover Too eagerly pursued, Or like a bird to cover Within some distant wood, Where thickest boughs roof over
I shall be spun. There is a voice… Which tells me plainly I am all u… For though I toil not, neither do… I shall be spun. April approaches. I have not begu…
When one who has wandered out of t… Which leads to the hills of joy, Whose heart has grown both cold an… Though it be but the heart of a bo… When such a one turns back his fee…
[After Longfellow.] I drove a golf-ball into the air; It fell to earth, I knew not wher… For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight.
Artemis! thou fairest Of the maids that be In divine Olympus, Hail! Hail to thee! To thee I bring this woven weed
St. Andrews! not for ever thine s… Merely the shadow of a mighty name… The remnant only of an ancient fam… Which time has crumbled, as thy ro… For thou, to whom was given the ea…
Gone is the glory from the hills, The autumn sunshine from the mere, Which mourns for the declining yea… In all her tributary rills. A sense of change obscurely chills
This is the time when larks are si… And higher still ascending and mor… This is the time when many a fleec… Runs lamb-like on the pastures of… This is the time when most I love…
Children of earth are we, Lovers of land and sea, Of hill, of brook, of tree, Of all things fair; Of all things dark or bright,
I met him down upon the pier, His eyes were wild and sad, And something in them made me fear That he was going mad. So, being of a prudent sort,
You like the trifling triolet: Well, here are three or four. Unless your likings I forget, You like the trifling triolet. Against my conscience I abet
It is the Police Commissioners, All on a winter’s day; And they to prove the town water Have set themselves away. They went to the north, they went…