#AmericanWriters
These are the things I pray Heave… To blow the ashes of the years awa… Or keep aglow forever 'neath their… The fire that warms when Life’s o… First Faith, that gazed into our…
The night is sad with silver and t… And the woodland silence listens t… Of the Lady of the Fountain, whom… With her limbs of samite whiteness… Whom the boyish South Wind seeks…
This is the heart’s own day: With dreaming eyes Life seems to look away Beyond the skies Into some long-gone May.
There is a field, that leans upon… Foamed o’er of flowers and twinkli… That in its girdle of wild acres b… The anodyne of rest that cures all… Wherein soft wind and sun and soun…
Briar and fennel and chinquapin, And rue and ragweed everywhere; The field seemed sick as a soul wi… Or dead of an old despair, Born of an ancient care.
What is it now that I shall seek Where woods dip downward, in the h… A mossy nook, a ferny creek, And May among the daffodils. Or in the valley’s vistaed glow,
Yea, whom He loves the Lord God… With disappointments, so that this… Through suffering and failure, the… To make them worthy in that Heave… Of Love’s attainment, where they…
The drowsy day, with half-closed e… Dreams in this quaint forgotten st… That, like some old-world wreckage… Left by the sea’s receding beat, Far from the city’s restless feet.
Out of the East, as from an unkno… Thou comest with thy children in t… Slumber and Dream, whom mortals a… Their flowing raiment sculptured t… Soft on thy breast thy lovely chil…
They are the wise who look before, Nor fear to look behind; Who in the darkness still ignore Pale shadows of the mind. Who, having lost, though loss be m…
God made her body out of foam and… And for her hair the dawn and dark… Then called two planets from their… And in her face, divinely eloquent… Gave them a firmament.
How often in our search for joy be… Hoping for happiness we chance on…
When all the world was Mayday, And all the skies were blue, Young innocence made playday Among the flowers and dew; Then all of life was Mayday,
It’s ho, it ‘s ho! when hawtrees b… Among the hills that Springtime t… When huckleberries, row on row, Hang out their blossom-bells of sn… Around the rills that music fills:
Those were the days of doubt. How… It all comes back! This ribbon, s… Brings that far past so very near I lose my own identity, And seem two beings: one that’s he…