#AmericanWriters
The Angel of the night when night… High upon Heaven’s ramparts, crie… And wheeling worlds grew radiant w… And undiminished glory of the sun. And Angel, Seraph, Saint and Che…
White rose-leaves in my hands, I toss you all away; The winds shall blow you through t… To seek my wedding day. Or East you go, or West you go
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 long grief left her old’and… Came love and made her young again As though some newer, gentler Spr… Should start dead roses blossoming… Old roses that have lain full long
For mocking on men’s faces He only sees instead The hidden, hundred traces Of tears their eyes have shed. Above their lips denying,
There are in Paradise Souls neither great nor wise, Yet souls who wear no less The crown of faithfulness. My master bade me watch the flock…
God send thee peace, Oh, great un… A world away, I pray that thou ma… Softly as on the Well-Belovèd’s b… Where ever in her wistful dreams t… At dawn my prayer is all for thee,…
My father took me by the hand And led me home again; (He brought me in from sorrow As you’d bring a child from rain). The child’s place at the hearth-st…
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…
The gypsies passed her little gate… She stopped her wheel to see,— A brown-faced pair who walked the… Free as the wind is free; And suddenly her tidy room
They do not know the awful tears w… The tender treasures that we keep… They could not be so still—our qui… In knowing this. They do not know what time we turn…
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,
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…
Oh, Heart of a Hundred Sorrows, Whose pity is great therefore, The gift that thy children bring t… Is ever a sorrow more. Sure of thy dear compassion,
She put her wedding-gown away As tenderly as one might close, With kissing lips and finger-tips, The petals of a rose Still held for the Belovèd’s sake…