#AmericanWriters
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…
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…
ALL things are current found On earthly ground, Spirits and elements Have their descents. Night and day, year on year,
Time wears her not; she doth his c… Mortality below her orb is placed. —Raleigh The full-orbed moon with unchanged… Mounts up the eastern sky,
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,
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.
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,
Indeed indeed, I cannot tell, Though I ponder on it well, Which were easier to state, All my love or all my hate. Surely, surely, thou wilt trust me
IN vain I see the morning rise, In vain observe the western blaze, Who idly look to other skies, Expecting life by other ways. Amidst such boundless wealth witho…
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…
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…
Light-winged Smoke, Icarian bird, Melting thy pinions in thy upward… Lark without song, and messenger o… Circling above the hamlets as they… Or else, departing dream, and shad…
Packed in my mind lie all the clot… Which outward nature wears, And in its fashion’s hourly change It all things else repairs. In vain I look for change abroad,
SALMON Brook, Penichook, Ye sweet waters of my brain, When shall I look, Or cast the hook,
Sending In delinquency To disappoint The amber of water At a high soul