#AmericanWriters
As one, who, journeying westward w… Beholds at length from the up-towe… Far-off, a land unspeakable beauty… Circean peaks and vales of Avalon… And, sinking weary, watches, one b…
When I go forth to greet the glad… Just at the time of opening apple-… When brooks are laughing, winds ar… On babbling hillsides or in warbli… There is an unseen presence that e…
Briar and fennel and chinquapin, And rue and ragweed everywhere; The field seemed sick as a soul wi… Or dead of an old despair, Born of an ancient care.
The mellow smell of hollyhocks And marigolds and pinks and phlox Blends with the homely garden scen… Of onions, silvering into rods; Of peppers, scarlet with their pod…
A beardless crew we launched our l… Laughed at its lightness; joyed to… Veer in the wind, and, with the fr… Bend o’er the foaming prow the swo… No fears were ours within that sta…
Take Heart Take heart again. Joy may be lost… It is not always Spring. And even now from some far Summer… Hither the birds may wing.
Below, the tawny Tagus swept Past royal gardens, breathing balm… Upon his couch the monarch slept; The world was still; the night was… Gray, Gothic-gated, in the ray
One well might deem, among these m… Such were the Forests of the Holy… Broceliand and Dean; where, cloth… The Knights of Arthur rode, and a… Of legend laired. And, where no s…
From 'Wild Thorn and Lily’ Among the white haw-blossoms, wher… Droned under drifts of dogwood and… The redbird, like a crimson blosso… Against the snow-white bosom of th…
Wrapped round of the night, as a m… Down, down through vast storeys of… Of the heaven, the thunder! on sta… Colossal of tread, like a giant, f… Goes striding in rattling armor...
I found myself among the trees What time the reapers ceased to re… And in the sunflower-blooms the be… Huddled brown heads and went to sl… Rocked by the balsam-breathing bre…
Here is a tale for sportsmen when… There was a boar, like that Atala… Who gorged and snored and, unmoles… His fat way through the world as s… Huge-jowled and paunched and porci…
Ah, shall I follow, on the hills, The Spring, as wild wings follow? Where wild-plum trees make wan the… Crabapple trees the hollow, Haunts of the bee and swallow?
When the lily nods in slumber, And the roses all are sleeping; When the night hangs deep and umbe… And the stars their watch are keep… When the clematis uncloses
Whether it be that we in letters t… The pure exactness of a wood bird’… And name it song; or with the brus… The high perfection of a wildflowe… Or mold in difficult marble all th…