#AmericanWriters
The world was widowed by the death… Vainly its suffering soul for peac… And found it not. For nothing, nothing, nothing has… To bring back comfort to the stric…
She must be honest, both in though… Of generous impulse, and above all… Not seeking praise, or place, or p… But life’s best blessings for her… Which means the best for all.
I have been down in the darkest wa… Deep, deep down where no light cou… Alone with the things that are ben… The mindless things that are cruel… I have fought with fear in my wave…
Don’t look for the flaws as you go… And even when you find them, It is wise and kind to be somewhat… And look for the virtue behind the… For the cloudiest night has a hint…
Of all the waltzes the great Stra… mad with melody, rhythm—rife From the very first to the final n… Give me his “Artist’s Life!” It stirs my blood to my finger end…
Oh! the earth is full of sinning And of trouble and of woe, But the devil makes an inning Every time we say it’s so. And the way to set him scowling,
Now who is ready to go with me Off and away to dream town? Oh, such a journey as that will be… All dressed in a snow white gown. No shoe or stocking, they think it…
You will be what you will to be; Let failure find its false content In that poor word “environment,” But spirit scorns it, and is free. It masters time, it conquers space…
I think that the bitterest sorrow… Of love unrequited, or cold death’… Is sweet compared to that hour whe… That some grand passion is on the… When we see that the glory and glo…
Fire! Fire! Fire! the cry rang ou… The roving winds caught it up, and… Louder and louder still, by voices… The cry went up and out and a nati… ‘Come, for the love of God, and h…
What is the end of each man’s toil… Brother, O Brother? A handful of dust in a bit of soil… His name forgotten as centuries ro… Though blazoned to-day on Glory’s…
I think men’s great capacity for p… Proves his immortal birthright. I… No merely human mind could bear th… Of some tremendous sorrows we endu… Art’s most ingenious breastworks f…
Soar not too high, O bird of Hop… Because the skies are fair; The tempest may come on apace And overcome thee there. When far above the mountain tops
I love your lips when they’re wet… And red with a wild desire; I love your eyes when the loveligh… Lit with a passionate fire. I love your arms when the warm whi…
Wherefore in dreams are sorrows bo… A healed wound opened, or the past… Last night in my deep sleep I dre… Again the old love woke in me, and… On looks of fire, and kisses, and…