#AmericanWriters
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
In vain you fervently extol, In vain you puff, your cutty clay. A twelvemonth smoked and black as… ’Tis redolent of rank decay And bones of monks long passed awa…
Love, we have heard together The North Sea sing his tune, And felt the wind’s wild feather Brush past our cheeks at noon, And seen the cloudy weather
The lady stood at the station bar, (Three currants in a bun) And oh she was proud, as ladies ar… (And the bun was baked a week ago.… For a weekly wage she was standing…
Golden dream of summer morn, By a well-remembered stream In the land where I was born, Golden dream! Ripples, by the glancing beam
I hear a twittering of birds, And now they burst in song. How sweet, although it wants the w… It shall not want them long, For I will set some to the note
The mist hangs round the College… The ghostly street Is silent at this midnight hour, Save for my feet. With none to see, with none to hea…
Would you like to see a city given… Soul and body, to a tyrannising ga… If you would, there’s little need… For St. Andrews is the abject cit… It is surely quite superfluous to…
[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.
The rain had fallen, the Poet aro… He passed through the doorway into… A strong wind lifted his hat from… And he uttered some words that wer… And then he started to follow the…
Mourn that which will not come aga… The joy, the strength of early yea… Bow down thy head, and let thy tea… Water the grave where hope lies sl… For tears are like a summer rain,
Alas for the bird who was born to… They have made him a cage; they ha… They have shut him up in a dingy s… And they praise his singing and ca… But his heart and his song are sad…
Thou art queen to every eye, When the fairest maids convene. Envy’s self can not deny Thou art queen. In thy step thy right is seen,
The voice that sings across the ni… Of long forgotten days and things, Is there an ear to hear aright The voice that sings? It is as when a curfew rings
On the field of Waterloo we made… That ever out of Elba he decided… For we finished him that day, and… And yield himself to Maitland on… ’Twas a stubborn fight, no doubt,…