#AmericanWriters
Oh, roses, roses everywhere but on… But one wild-rose for me, my boy,… My rose of roses, dear my lad, my… The world may keep its roses now,… Oh, song and singing everywhere; t…
All hushed of glee, The last chill bee Clings wearily To the dying aster. The leaves dropp faster:
Rock and root and fern and flower They had led him for an hour To the inmost forest, where, In a hollow, green with moss, That the deep ferns trailed across…
Old days, old ways, old homes besi… Old gardens with old-fashioned flo… Poppy, petunia, and many a name Of many a flower of fragrant pedig… Old hills that glow with blue– and…
The Fool 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…
First I asked the honeybee, Busy in the balmy bowers; Saying, ‘Sweetheart, tell it me: Have you seen her, honeybee? She is cousin to the flowers
Here is a tale for spinsters at th… There was a goose, a little goslin… Who went her goose-girl way and lo… As every goose should when ’tis wi… Proper was she as every gosling sh…
Globed in Heav’n’s tree of azure,… As some round apple hung High in hesperian boughs, thou han… The branch-like mists among: Within thy light a sunburnt youth,…
Here is the place where Lovelines… Between the river and the wooded h… Within a valley where the Springt… Her firstling wind-flowers under b… Where Summer sits braiding her wa…
The rose of Hope, how rich and re… It blooms, and will bloom on, 't i… Since Eve, in Eden days gone by, Plucked it on Adam’s heart to lie… When out of Paradise they fled,
I can’t get up with the chickens; I can’t get up at dark: And what do I care for the early… And what do I care for the lark? I can’t do this or that thing;
Take heart again. Joy may be lost… It is not always Spring. And even now from some far Summer… Hither the birds may wing.
Spare us our Dreams, O God! The… When we were children and dwelt ne… Of Faery, which our Childhood oft… To reach, beholding where its towe… The dream our Youth put seaward w…
Here is a tale for uncles and old… There was a man once who denied th… Yet in the world saw nothing else… A pessimist, with face as sour as… Still people praised him; men he l…
On southern winds shot through wit… Breathing soft balm and clothed in… The lily-fingered Spring came o’e… Waking the crocus and the daffodil… O’er the cold Earth she breathed…