#AmericanWriters
O we go down to sea in ships— But Hope remains behind, And Love, with laughter on his li… And Peace, of passive mind; While out across the deeps of nigh…
Has she forgotten? On this very M… We were to meet here, with the bir… As on that Sabbath, underneath th… We strayed among the tombs, and st… The vines from these old granites,…
The kind of a man for you and me! He faces the world unflinchingly, And smites, as long as the wrong r… With a knuckled faith and force li… He lives the life he is preaching…
Close the book and dim the light, I shall read no more to-night. No—I am not sleepy, dear— Do not go: sit by me here In the darkness and the deep
Get gone, thou most uncomfortable… Thou really dost annoy me with thy… Impalpable transparency of grin; And the vague, shadowy shape of th… Hath vext me beyond boundary and c…
Maud Muller worked at making hay, And cleared her forty cents a day. Her clothes were coarse, but her h… And so she worked in the sweet sun… Singing as glad as a bird in May
When frost’s all on our winder, an… All out-o’-doors, our 'Old-Kriss’… A-drivin’ round, ist purt’-nigh fr… With his old white mustache froze… But when it’s summer an’ all warm…
The orchard lands of Long Ago! O drowsy winds, awake, and blow The snowy blossoms back to me, And all the buds that used to be! Blow back along the grassy ways
The touches of her hands are like… Of velvet snowflakes; like the tou… The peach just brushes 'gainst the… The flossy fondlings of the thistl… Caught in the crinkle of a leaf of…
They all climbed up on a high boar… Nine little Goblins, with green-g… Nine little Goblins that had no s… And couldn’t tell coppers from col… And they all climbed up on the fen…
How slight a thing may set one’s f… Upon the dead sea of the Past!—A… Sometimes an odor—or a rooster lif… A far-off ‘OOH! OOH-OOH!’ And suddenly we find ourselves ast…
The harp of the minstrel has never… As sad as the song in his bosom to… For the magical touch of his finge… Can not waken the echoes that brea… But oh! as the smile of the moon m…
O I will walk with you, my lad, w… You’ll have me, too, the side o’ y… No care for where the road you tak… It can but be a joyful ja’nt whils… The road you take’s the path o’ lo…
As one who cons at evening o’er an… And muses on the faces of the frie… So I turn the leaves of Fancy, ti… I find the smiling features of an… The lamplight seems to glimmer wit…
Here’s his ragged 'roundabout’; Turn the pockets inside out: See; his pen-knife, lost to use, Rusted shut with apple-juice; Here, with marbles, top and string…