#AmericanWriters
Of fret, of dark, of thorn, of chi… Complain no more; for these, O he… Direct the random of the will As rhymes direct the rage of art. The lute’s fixt fret, that runs at…
The storm that snapped our fate’s… Hath blown my half o’ the wreck fr… O Love! O Love! across the gray-… To thee-ward strain my eyes, my ar… I ask my God if e’en in His sweet…
How tall among her sisters, and ho… How grave beyond her youth, yet de… As dawn, 'mid wrinkled Matres of… Our youngest Alma Mater modest st… In four brief cycles round the pun…
Fine-tissued as her finger-tips, a… As all her thoughts; in shape like… As if before young Violet’s dream… Still blazed the two great Theban… That swayed the random of that fur…
I asked my heart to say Some word whose worth my love’s de… Upon my Lady’s natal day. Then said my heart to me: ‘Learn from the rhyme that now sha…
To range, deep-wrapt, along a heav… O’erseeing all that man but unders… To loiter down lone alleys of deli… And hear the beating of the hearts… And think the thoughts that lilies…
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.
Sometimes in morning sunlights by… Where in the early fall long grass… Light winds from over the moorland… And sigh as if just blown across a… And then I pause and listen to th…
Out of the hills of Habersham, Down the valleys of Hall, I hurry amain to reach the plain, Run the rapid and leap the fall, Split at the rock and together aga…
Through seas of dreams and seas of… Through seas of solitudes and vaca… And through my Self, the deepest… I strive to thee, Nirvana. Oh long ago the billow-flow of sen…
“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?
(Killed at Surrey C. H., October… . . . . . Dear friend, forgive a wild lament Insanely following thy flight. I would not cumber thine ascent
‘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…
Sail on, sail on, fair cousin Clo… Oh loiter hither from the sea. Still-eyed and shadow-brow’d, Steal off from yon far-drifting cr… And come and brood upon the marsh…
In the South lies a lonesome, hun… He huddles his rags with a cripple… He mutters, prone on the barren sa… What time his heart is breaking. He lifts his bare head from the gr…