#AmericanWriters
The gray dawn finds me thinking st… Of thee who hadst my thoughts all… Of thee, who art my lute’s sweet s… And of my soul the only light; My star of song to whom I turn
Through ferns and moss the path wo… A hollow where the touchmenots Swung horns of honey filled with d… And where like foot-prints violets… And bluets made sweet sapphire blo…
How many things, that we would rem… Sweet or sad, or great or small, Do our minds forget! and how one t… One little thing endures o’er all! For many things have I forgotten,
I heard the toads and frogs last n… When snug in bed, and all was stil… I lay and listened there until It seemed a church where one, with… Was preaching high and very shrill…
It is not early spring and yet Of bloodroot blooms along the stre… And blotted banks of violet, My heart will dream. Is it because the windflower apes
Geraldine, Geraldine, Do you remember where The willows used to screen The water flowing fair? The mill-stream’s banks of green
Above her, pearl and rose the heav… Around her, flowers scattered eart… Or down the path in insolence held… Like cavaliers who ride the elves’… Scarlet and blue, within a garden…
Sad-Hearted spirit of the solitud… Who comest through the ruin-wedded… Gray-gowned with fog, gold-girdled… Of tawny twilights; burdened with… Of rain-wet uplands, chilly with t…
A lily in a twilight place? A moonflow’r in the lonely night?— Strange beauty of a woman’s face Of wildflow’r-white! The rain that hangs a star’s green…
When the hoot of the owl comes ove… At twelve o’clock when the night i… And pale on the pools, where the c… Glimmering gray is the light o’ th… And under the willows, where water…
O voice of ecstasy and lyric pain, Divinely throated and divinely hea… Among old England’s songsters! Sp… Haunting the woods of song with ra… In whose wild music Love is born…
‘Trees,’ so he said and laid him l… At a great beech-tree’s root, ‘are… Upon their love it seems my life d… No dog or woman for me! Give me a… In winter saying, ’ Courage! hold…
I HAD forgot how, in my day The Sabine fields around me lay In amaranth and asphodel, With many a cold Bandusian well Bright-bubbling by the mountain-wa…
The hot sunflowers by the glaring… Lift shields of sultry brass; the… Pink-thorned, advance with bristli… Against the furious sunlight. Fie… Are sick with summer: now, with br…
Made a face of biscuit-dough, Which our black cook gave me once; And this girl named So-and-So Said ‘t was funnier than a dunce. And she took it; put it on