#AmericanWriters
My life has been like a bee that r… Through a scented garden close, And ’tis I who have kept the hone… The hoarded sweetness and scent th… For all I forget the rose.
Sometimes, slow moving through unl… The need to look on beauty falls o… As on the blind the anguished wish… As on the dumb the urge to rage or… Beauty of marble where the eyes ma…
‘Black Sheep, Black Sheep, Have you any wool?’ ‘That I have, my Master, Three bags full.’ One is for the mother who prays fo…
She came not into the Presence as… Crowned, white—robed and adoring,… She stood as a straight young sold… Who asks a boon of his captain in… She said: ‘Now have I stayed too…
The burden that I bear would be n… Should I cry out against it; thou… The weary day with sound of my dis… It were my burden still. The burden that I bear may be no…
I said I will go back again where… Were glad together. But my dear,… Where are the roses we were wont t… The songs we used to hear? I said the hearth-flame that once…
Mothers of men—the words are good… Pride in the very sound of them, s… Why is it their faces haunt me, wi… Ever some dear thing vanished and… Mothers of Men?
I never climb a high hill Or gaze across the lea, But, Oh, beyond the two of them, Beyond the height and blue of them… I’m looking for the sea.
They brought to the little Prince… The lovely things, the beautiful t… They covered her floor with crimso… They hung the windows with cloth o… (Lest the highway show an unlovely…
The kindliest thing God ever made… His hand of very healing laid Upon a fevered world, is shade. His glorious company of trees Throw out their mantles, and on th…
The little dream she had forgot Oh, long and long ago, Came back across the April fields And touched her garment so (As might a wind-blown primrose cl…
I lost Young Love so long ago I had forgot him quite, Until a little lass and lad Went by my door to-night. Ah, hand in hand, but not alone,
I saw the old sea captain in his c… Shaved till his chin was pink, and… In a broadcloth suit and varnished… (I’d seen him last with a slicker… And it happened that I went home…
For mocking on men’s faces He only sees instead The hidden, hundred traces Of tears their eyes have shed. Above their lips denying,
To you he gave his laughter and hi… His words that of all words were m… His glad, mad moments when the… And his wild song outshrilled the… For you that memory, but happie…