#AmericanWriters
Young palmer sun, that to these sh… Pourest thy pilgrim’s tale, discou… Thy silver passages of sacred land… With news of Sepulchre and Doloro… Canst thou be he that, yester-suns…
The robin laughed in the orange-tr… “Ho, windy North, a fig for thee: While breasts are red and wings ar… And green trees wave us globes of… Time’s scythe shall reap but bliss…
“O Trade! O Trade! would thou we… The Time needs heart—’tis tired o… We’re all for love,” the violins s… “Of what avail the rigorous tale Of bill for coin and box for bale?
Fair is the wedded reign of Night… Each rules a half of earth with di… Exchanging kingdoms, East and Wes… Like the round pearl that Egypt d… The sun half sinks i’ the brimming…
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.
From the German of Heine. In the far North stands a Pine-tr… Upon a wintry height; It sleeps: around it snows have t… A covering of white.
Through all that year-scarred agon… Unblest of bough or bloom, to wher… His wandy circlet with his bladed… Dividing every wind, or loud or li… To termless hymns of love and old…
Oft as I hear thee, wrapt in heav… The massive message of Beethoven… With thy ten fingers to the people… As if ten tongues told news of hea… Gazing on thee, I mark that not a…
Thou God, whose high, eternal Lov… Is the only blue sky of our life, Clear all the Heaven that bends a… The life-road of this man and wife… May these two lives be but one not…
In my sleep I was fain of their f… Of the live-oak, the marsh, and th… The little green leaves would not… Up-breathed from the marshes, a me… Interwoven with waftures of wild s…
It was three slim does and a ten-t… And all of a sudden the sinister s… Awaft on a wind-shift, wavered and… Down the hill-side and sifted alon… Then Nan got a-tremble at nostril…
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…
In o’er-strict calyx lingering, Lay music’s bud too long unblown, Till thou, Beethoven, breathed th… Then bloomed the perfect rose of t… O Psalmist of the weak, the stron…
Written for the Art Autograph dur… Heartsome Ireland, winsome Irelan… Charmer of the sun and sea, Bright beguiler of old anguish, How could Famine frown on thee?
Now haste thee while the way is cl… Paul Revere! Haste, Dawes! but haste thee not,… To Lexington. Then Devens looked and saw the li…