#AmericanWriters
Hold to the rapture: let it work Inward till founts of being fill, And all is clear that once was mur… And Beauty’s self rise, mirrored… Before the mind, that shall devise
Weeds and dead leaves, and leaves… With hues of rust and rose whence… Gnarl’d thorns, from which the kno… On paths the gray moss heaps. One golden flower, like a dreamy t…
What ogive gates from gold of Oph… What walls of Pariah, whiter than… What towers of crystal, for the ey… Hast builded on far Islands of Re… Thy cloudy columns, vast, Corinth…
Now ’tis the time when, tall, The long blue torches of the bellf… Among the trees; and, by the woode… In many a fragrant ball, Blooms of the button-bush fall.
Here is a tale for farmer and for… There was an ox, who might have pl… So strong was he, his huge head li… A Gothic helmet with enormous cre… Stolid of look and slow of hoof an…
These-the bright symbols of man’s… In which he reads his blessing or… Are syllables with which God spea… In the vast utterance of the unive…
Yea, why I love thee let my heart… I look upon thy face and then divi… How men could die for beauty, such… Deeming it sweet To lay my life and manhood at thy…
The sun sinks scarlet as a barberr… Far off at sea one vessel lifts a… Hurrying to harbor from the coming… That banks the west above a choppy… The sun is gone; the fide is flowi…
Once I found an ant-lion’s hole And an ant-lion in it: nippers Like a pair of rusty clippers. And I saw a red ant roll In its pit, and, quick as Ned,
The sunset-crimson poppies are dep… Mariana! The dusky-centred, sultry-smelling… The drowsy-hearted, That burnt like flames along the g…
Over the rocks she trails her lock… Her mossy locks that drip, drip, d… Her sparkling eyes smile at the sk… In friendship-wise and fellowship: While the gleam and glance of her…
His Birthday, October the 7th, 19… RILEY, whose pen has made the wo… Whose Art has kept you young thro… Brimming our hearts with laughter… Holding her faith pure to the very…
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…
The shivering wind sits in the oak… Twisted and tortured, nevermore ar… Grief and decay sit with it; they,… Autumnal touch makes hectic-red th… Of all the oak leaves; desolating,…
WITH her fair face she made my h… Beneath whose stars and moon and s… I worshiped, praying, having striv… For wealth through which she might… And yet she had no soul: A woman