#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…
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 think awhile of Love, and while… Love is to me a world, Sole meat and sweetest drink, And close connecting link Tween heaven and earth.
They who prepare my evening meal b… Carelessly hit the kettle as they… With tongs or shovel, And ringing round and round, Out of this hovel
There is a vale which none hath se… Where foot of man has never been, Such as here lives with toil and s… An anxious and a sinful life. There every virtue has its birth,
O Nature! I do not aspire To be the highest in thy choir, - To be a meteor in thy sky, Or comet that may range on high; Only a zephyr that may blow
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…
My life has been the poem I would have writ, But I could not both live and utter it.
MY life is like a stroll upon the… As near the ocean’s edge as I c… My tardy steps its waves sometimes… Sometimes I stay to let them over… My sole employment is, and scrupul…
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…
Let such pure hate still underprop Our love, that we may be Each other’s conscience, And have our sympathy Mainly from thence.
Men say they know many things; But lo! they have taken wings, ' The arts and sciences, And a thousand appliances; The wind that blows
Pray to what earth does this sweet… Which asks no duties and no consci… The moon goes up by leaps, her che… In some far summer stratum of the… While stars with their cold shine…
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.
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