#AmericanWriters
I saw a youth, one of God’s favor… Crowned with beauty, and talents,… He had climbed the steep pathway,… To the summit of glory and wealth. The day is breaking, hearts are wa…
The sands upon the ocean side That change about with every tide, And never true to one abide, A woman’s love I liken to. The summer zephyrs, light and vain…
A humble wild-rose, pink and slend… Was plucked and placed in a bright… Beside a Jacqueminot’s royal sple… And both in my lady’s boudoir lay. Said the haughty bud, in a tone of…
And now, when poets are singing Their songs of olden days, And now, when the land is ringing With sweet Centennial lays, My muse goes wandering backward,
Here now, for evermore, our lives… My path leads there, and yours ano… What shall we do with this fond lo… It grows a heavier burden day by d… Hide it? In all earth’s caverns,…
We women teach our little sons how… And how ignoble blows are; school… Support our precepts and inoculate The growing minds with thoughts of… ‘Let dogs delight to bark and bite…
Not Atlas, with his shoulders ben… Bore such a burden as this man, on… The evils of old festering lands-y… And left him standing all alone, t… It is the way the Fates have done…
Beside us in our seeking after ple… Through all our restless striving… Through all our search for worldly… There walketh one whom no man like… Silent he follows, veiled of form…
When you go away, my friend, When you say your last good-bye, Then the summer time will end, And the winter will be nigh. Though the green grass decks the h…
Over the ocean of life’s commotion We sail till the night comes on. Sail and sail in a tiny boat, Drifting wherever the billows go. Out on the treacherous sea afloat,
A little time agone, a few brief y… And there was peace within our bea… Peace, and a prosperous people, an… Of war and its disorders. Pleasure was ruling goddess of our…
BOOK FIRST. ALL valor died not on the plains… Awake, my Muse, awake! be thine t… To sing of deeds as dauntless and… As e’er lent luster to a warrior’s…
The Wife The house is like a garden, The children are the flowers, The gardener should come methinks And walk among his bowers,
Why sit ye idly dreaming all the d… While the golden, precious hours f… See you not the day is waning, wan… That the morn’s already vanished i… When the glowing noon approaches,…
The sun may be clouded, yet ever t… Will sweep on its course till the… And when onto chaos the systems ar… Again shall the Builder reshape a… Your path may be clouded, uncertai…