#AmericanWriters
The sun rode high in a cloudless s… Of a perfect summer morn. She stood and gazed out into the s… And wondered why she was born. On the topmost branch of a maple-t…
In the face of the sun are great t… And the storm-clouds have shut out… But a Rainbow of Promise now shin… And the universe thrills at the si… Tis the flag of our Union, the re…
Only a blunder-a sad mistake; All my own fault and mine alone. The saddest error a heart can make… I was so young, or I would have k… Only his rare, sweet, tender smile…
(Suggested by the lives of Napole… ONE night was full of rapture and… Of reunited arms and swooning kiss… And all the unnamed and unnumbered… Which fond souls find in love of l…
All in the dark we grope along, And if we go amiss We learn at least which path is wr… And there is gain in this. We do not always win the race
Do you remember the name I wore '… The old pet-name of Little Queen… In the dear, dead days that are no… The happiest days of our lives, I… For we loved with that passionate…
Words are great forces in the real… Be careful of their use. Who tal… Of poverty, of sickness, but sets… These very elements to mar his fat… When love, health, happiness, and…
Oh, not for the great departed, Who formed our country’s laws, And not for the bravest-hearted Who died in freedom’s cause, And not for some living hero
On the white throat of useless pas… That scorched my soul with its bur… I clutched my fingers in murderous… And gathered them close in a grip… For why should I fan, or feed wit…
Oh life is wonderful,' she said, ‘And all my world is bright; Can Paradise show fairer skies, Or more effulgent light?’ (Speak lower, lower, mortal heart,
Though critics may bow to art, and… It is not art, but heart, which wi… Though smooth be the heartless pra… And the finest phrase falls dead i… Though perfect the player’s touch,…
We will be what we could be. Do n… “It might have been, had not this,… No fate can keep us from the chose… He only might who is. We will do what we could do. Do n…
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…
The Wife The house is like a garden, The children are the flowers, The gardener should come methinks And walk among his bowers,
If Christ came questioning His wo… (If Christ came questioning,) ‘What hast thou done to glorify th… Since last My feet this lower ear… How could I answer Him; and in wh…