#AmericanWriters
On fields o’er which the reaper’s… Lit by the harvest moon and autumn… My thoughts like stubble floating… And of such fineness as October a… There after harvest could I glean…
My life has been the poem I would have writ, But I could not both live and utter it.
There is health in thy gray wing, Health of nature’s furnishing. Say, thou modern-winged antique, Was thy mistress ever sick? In each heaving of thy wing
Within the circuit of this ploddin… There enter moments of an azure hu… Untarnished fair as is the violet Or anemone, when the spring stew t… By some meandering rivulet, which…
Sending In delinquency To disappoint The amber of water At a high soul
LIGHT-WINGED Smoke, Icarian… Melting thy pinions in thy upward… Lark without song, and the messeng… Circling above the hamlets as thy… Or else, departing dream, and shad…
Away! away! away! away! Ye have not kept your secret well, I will abide that other day, Those other lands ye tell. Has time no leisure left for these…
Mine are the night and morning, The pits of air, the gull of space… The sportive sun, the gibbous moon… The innumerable days. I hide in the solar glory,
Whate’er we leave to God, God doe… And blesses us; The work we choose should be our o… God leaves alone. If with light head erect I sing,
My books I’d fain cast off, I can… ‘Twixt every page my thoughts go s… Down in the meadow, where is riche… And will not mind to hit their pro… Plutarch was good, and so was Hom…
Among the signs of autumn I perce… The Roman wormwood (called by lea… Ambrosia elatior, food for gods,'… For to impartial science the humbl… Is as immortal once as the proudes…
I was made erect and lone, And within me is the bone; Still my vision will be clear, Still my life will not be drear, To the center all is near.
Let such pure hate still underprop Our love, that we may be Each other’s conscience, And have our sympathy Mainly from thence.
Low-anchored cloud, Newfoundland air, Fountain-head and source of rivers… Dew-cloth, dream-drapery, And napkin spread by fays;
Within the circuit of this ploddin… There enter moments of an azure hu… Untarnished fair as is the violet Or anemone, when the spring strews… By some meandering rivulet, which…