#AmericanWriters
TRAVELLER Why dost thou wildly rush and roar… Mad River, O Mad River? Wilt thou not pause and cease to p… Thy hurrying, headlong waters o’er
The night is come, but not too soo… And sinking silently, All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky. There is no light in earth or heav…
From the outskirts of the town Where of old the mile-stone stood, Now a stranger, looking down I behold the shadowy crown Of the dark and haunted wood.
She dwells by Great Kenhawa’s sid… In valleys green and cool; And all her hope and all her pride Are in the village school. Her soul, like the transparent air
Out of the bosom of the Air Out of the cloud-folds of her garm… Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow
And now along the horizon’s edge Mountains of cloud uprose, Black as with forests underneath, Above their sharp and jagged teeth Were white as drifted snows.
By yon still river, where the wave Is winding slow at evening’s close… The beech, upon a nameless grave, Its sadly—moving shadow throws. O’er the fair woods the sun looks…
There is a quiet spirit in these w… That dwells where’er the gentle so… Where, underneath the white-thorn,… The wild flowers bloom, or, kissin… The leaves above their sunny palms…
Thou comest, Autumn, heralded by… With banners, by great gales inces… Brighter than brightest silks of… And stately oxen harnessed to thy… Thou standest, like imperial Char…
Saint Augustine! well hast thou s… That of our vices we can frame A ladder, if we will but tread Beneath our feet each deed of sham… All common things, each day’s even…
‘Hast thou seen that lordly castle… That Castle by the Sea? Golden and red above it The clouds float gorgeously. ’And fain it would stoop downward
O gift of God! O perfect day: Whereon shall no man work, but pla… Whereon it is enough for me, Not to be doing, but to be! Through every fibre of my brain,
From the river’s plashy bank, Where the sedge grows green and ra… And the twisted woodbine springs, Upward speeds the morning lark To its silver cloud—and hark!
‘All the old gods are dead, All the wild warlocks fled; But the White Christ lives and re… And throughout my wide domains His Gospel shall be spread!’
Peradventure of old, some bard in… Walking alone by the sea, hearing… Learned the secret from them of th… Breathing into his song motion and… For as the wave of the sea, upheav…