#AmericanWriters
Here is a tale for any one who wis… There grew a cabbage once among th… A plain, broad cabbage a good wenc… Were kitchen-busy with plebeian di… The rose and lily, toilless, witho…
They’ve torn the old house down, t… Like some kind mother, in this pla… Hugged by its orchard and its wood… Two sturdy children, strong of rac… This formal place makes no appeal.
When in the pansy-purpled stain Of sunset one far star is seen, Like some bright dropp of rain, Out of the forest, deep and green, O’er me at Spirit seems to lean,
I have heard the wind on a winter’… When the snow-cold moon looked ici… My window’s flickering firelight, Where the frost his witchery drew: I have heard the wind on a winter’…
Was it a dream, Or a whim of the night? Or did they gleam Upon my sight An instant there in the wan moonli…
Over the hills, as the pewee flies… Under the blue of the Southern sk… Over the hills, where the red-bird… Like a scarlet blossom, or sits an… Under the shadow of rock and tree,
Let us mix a cup of Joy That the wretched may employ, Whom the Fates have made their to… Who have given brain and heart To the thankless world of Art,
What wood-god, on this water’s mos… Lost in reflections of earth’s lov… Did I, just now, unconsciously di… I, who haphazard, wandering at a g… Came on this spot, wherein, with g…
Reconciliation LISTEN, dearest! you must love… More than you did before!— Hark, what a beating here of wings… Never at rest,
Far as the eye can see, in domes a… Buttress and curve, ruins of shift… In whose wild making wind and sea… The white dunes stretch. The wind… Striving for strange effects that…
Spurge and sea-pink, hyssop blue, Dragonhead of purple hue; Catnip, frosted green and gray, With blue butterflies a-sway, These may point you out the way.
From the lyrical eclogue 'One Day… Now rests the season in forgetfuln… Careless in beauty of maturity; The ripened roses round brown temp… Fulfills completion in a dreamy gu…
As I went through the wood, the w… Through fern and pimpernel, A water fell, a water stood, Twinkling within a dell, And Naiad fancies, gleaming, hung
I dream again I 'm in the lane That leads me home through night a… Again the fence I see and, dense, The garden, wet and sweet of sense… Then mother’s window, with its sta…
There is nothing that eases my hea… As the wind that blows from the pu… ’Tis a hand of balsam whose healin… Unburdens my bosom of ills. There is nothing that causes my so…