#AmericanWriters
Stepping with light feet, swiftly and noiselessly stepping and stopping, Bending with open eyes over the shut eyes of sleepers, Wandering and confused, lost to myself, ill-assorted, con...
Not from successful love alone, Nor wealth, nor honor’d middle age… But as life wanes, and all the tur… As gorgeous, vapory, silent hues c… As softness, fulness, rest, suffus…
O me, man of slack faith so long, Standing aloof, denying portions s… Only aware to-day of compact all-d… Discovering to-day there is no lie… grows as inevitably upon itself as…
From far Dakota’s canyons, Lands of the wild ravine, the dusk… Haply to-day a mournful wall, hapl… The battle-bulletin, The Indian ambuscade, the craft,…
In a far-away northern county in t… Lives my farmer friend, the theme… There they bring him the three-yea… break them, He will take the wildest steer in…
Of Equality—as if it harm’d me, g… rights as myself—as if it were not… that others possess the same.
I MET a Seer, Passing the hues and objects of th… The fields of art and learning, pl… To glean Eidólons. Put in thy chants, said he,
A song of the rolling earth, and o… Were you thinking that those were… curves, angles, dots? No, those are not the words, the s… and sea,
Thou orb aloft full-dazzling! thou… Flooding with sheeny light the gra… The sibilant near sea with vistas… And tawny streaks and shades and s… O sun of noon refulgent! my specia…
Thou reader throbbest life and pri… Therefore for thee the following c…
ONE sweeps by, attended by an imm… All emblematic of peace—not a sold… One sweeps by, old, with black eye… He has the simple magnificence of… His face strikes as with flashes o…
The place where a great city stand… Nor the place of ceaseless salutes… Nor the place of the tallest and c… Nor the place of the best librarie… Nor the place of the most numerous…
Fast-anchor’d eternal O love! O w… O bride! O wife! more resistless… Then separate, as disembodied or a… Ethereal, the last athletic realit… I ascend, I float in the regions…
Rise O days from your fathomless… Long for my soul hungering gymnast… Long I roam’d amid the woods of t… I travel’d the prairies over and s… Nevadas, I cross’d the plateaus,
These I singing in spring collect… (For who but I should understand… And who but I should be the poet… Collecting I traverse the garden… Now along the pond-side, now wadin…