#AmericanWriters
Again, in dreams, the veteran hear… The bugle and the drum; Again the boom of battle nears, Again the bullets hum: Again he mounts, again he cheers,
Come, walk with me and Memory; And let us see what we shall see: A wild green lane of stones and we… That to a wilder woodland leads. An old board gate, the lichens cru…
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…
In the woods, not long ago, Met with Robin Goodfellów; First we heard his horse-like laug… In an ivy-bush near by; Then we saw him, like a calf,
Here is a tale for gossips and cha… There lived a woman once, a straig… Whose only love was slander. Noth… Escaped her vulture eye. Like som… Her course of life pointed to Hea…
O Days that hold us; and years th… And dreams and mem’ries no time de… Where lie the islands, the morning… And where the highlands we knew wh… Oh, tell us, whether the happy hea…
This is the place where visions co… Dreams of the trees and flowers, g… Where the white moon and the pale… Sitting with Legend and with dim… This is the place where all the si…
A mile of moonlight and the whispe… A mile of shadow and the odorous l… One large, white star above the so… Like one sweet wish: and, laughter… Wild-roses wistful in a web of rai…
Not into these dark cities, These sordid marts and streets, That the sun in his rising pities, And the moon with sorrow greets, Does she, with her dreams and flow…
These are the things which I woul… When I am old, Never to feel in soul doubt’s spir… The heart grow cold With self; but in me that which wa…
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…
She mutters and stoops by the lone… The little green leaves are hushed… An owl in an oak cries’Who-oh-who… And a fox barks back where the moo… The moss that sways to a sudden br…
There it lies broken, as a shard, What breathed sweet music yesterda… The source, all mute, has passed a… With its masked meanings still unm… But melody will never cease!
She comes, the dreamy daughter Of day and night, a girl, Who o’er the western water Lifts up her moon of pearl: Like some Rebecca at the well,
All day the clouds hung ashen with… And through the snow the muffled w… The day seemed drowned in grief to… Like some old hermit whose last be… At eve the wind woke, and the snow…