#AmericanWriters
Below the sunset’s range of rose, Below the heaven’s deepening blue, Down woodways where the balsam blo… And milkweed tufts hang, gray with… A Jersey heifer stops and lows–
The days that clothed white limbs… And rocked the red rose on their b… Have passed with amber-sandaled fe… Into the ruby-gated west. These were the days that filled th…
Can freckled August,-drowsing war… Beside a wheat-shock in the white-… In her hot hair the yellow daisies… O bird of rain, lend aught but sle… To thee? when no plumed weed, no f…
Behold a hag whom Life denies a k… As he rides questward in knighterr… Only when he hath passed her is it… To know, too late, the Fairy in d…
Love one day, in childish anger, Tired of his divinity, Sick of rapture, sick of languor, Threw his arrows in the sea. Since then Ocean, like a woman,
A Tortured tree in a huddled holl… On whose gnarled boughs three leav… A strip of path that the hunters f… That leads to fields of the wind’s… And a rain-washed hill with the wi…
Here’s to her who bears the name Of our State; May the glory of her fame Be as great! In the battle’s dread eclipse,
Here is a tale for children and th… There was a fool, a man who’d had… But missed them, somehow; lost the… Tag-ends of things with which he’d… Of his cracked head, as panes are…
COME, let’s climb into our attic… In our house that’s old and gray! Life, you’re old and I’m rheumati… And—it’s close of day. Lay aside your rags and tatters,
Some drink to Friendship, some to… Through whom the world is fair, pe… But I to one these others prove, Who leaps 'mid lions for a glove, Or dies to set another free
Sometimes, when I’m gone to-bed, And it’s all dark in the room, Seems I hear somebody tread Heavy, rustling through the gloom: And then something there goes ‘boo…
Noera, when sad Fall Has grayed the fallow; Leaf-cramped the wood-brook’s braw… In pool and shallow; When, by the woodside, tall
GREEN, watery jets of light let… The rippling foliage drenched with… And golden glimmers, warm and dim, That in the vistaed distance swim; Where, 'round the wood-spring’s oo…
March set heel upon the flowers, Trod and trampled them for hours: But when April’s bugles rang, Up their starry legions sprang, Radiant in the sun-shot showers.
There is a poetry that speaks Through common things: the grassho… That in the hot weeds creaks and c… Says all of summer to my ear: And in the cricket’s cry I hear