#AmericanWriters
O marriage-bells, your clamor tell… Two weddings in one breath. SHE marries whom her love compels… —And I wed Goodman Death! My brain is blank, my tears are re…
‘I saw a sky of stars that rolled… All glory twinkled through some sw… From each tall chimney of the roar… That shot his fire far up the soot… Mixt fuels—Labor’s Right and Lab…
Death, thou’rt a cordial old and r… Look how compounded, with what car… Time got his wrinkles reaping thee Sweet herbs from all antiquity. David to thy distillage went,
By the Eldest Grandson. A rainbow span of fifty years, Painted upon a cloud of tears, In blue for hopes and red for fear… Finds end in a golden hour to-day.
So one in heart and thought, I tr… That thou might’st press the strin… And both would meet in music sweet… Thou and I, I trow.
O Age that half believ’st thou ha… Half doubt’st the substance of thi… And, half perceiving that thou hal… Stand’st at thy temple door, heart… Lo! while thy heart’s within, help…
[Not long ago a certain Georgia c… by awaking each morning to find th… quite outgrown the cotton overnigh… in defiance of his lazy freedmen’s… set the whole State in a laugh by…
The Centennial Meditation of Col… [Musical Annotations, in angled b… [Full chorus: sober, measured and… From this hundred-terraced height, Sight more large with nobler light
Once, at night, in the manor wood My Love and I long silent stood, Amazed that any heavens could Decree to part us, bitterly repini… My Love, in aimless love and grie…
or, The First Steamboat up the A… You, Dinah! Come and set me whar… De Lord, HE made dese black-jack… Umph, dar! De Lord have mussy on… It 'pear to me dis mornin’ I kin…
Well: Death is a huge omnivorous… Grim squatting on a twilight road. He catcheth all that Circumstance Hath tossed to him. He curseth all who upward glance
Dear Mother-Earth Of Titan birth, Yon hills are your large breasts,… Have climbed to their top-nipples,… To drink my mother’s-milk so near…
If spicy-fringed pinks that blush… With passions of perfume,—if viole… That hint of heaven with odor more… If perfect roses, each a holy Gra… Wherefrom the blood of beauty doth…
If haply thou, O Desdemona Morn, Shouldst call along the curving sp… Dear Night, sweet Moor; nay, leav… With soft halloos of heavenly love… Shouldst thou, O Spring! a-cower…
Joust First. Bright shone the lists, blue bent… And the knights still hurried amai… To the tournament under the ladies… Where the jousters were Heart and…