#AmericanWriters
Clouds of the autumn night, Under the hunter’s moon, Ghostly and windy white, Whither, like leaves wild strewn, Take ye your stormy flight?
My nurse she tells me stories, too… To make me good, she says; but I She scares me so! I want to cry: And if my father ever knew, I guess he’d make things pretty ho…
The cactus and the aloe bloom Beneath the window of your room; Your window where, at evenfall, Beneath the twilight’s first pale… You linger, tall and spiritual,
What though the heart be tired, The heart, that long aspired, And one high dream desired, Beyond attainment’s scope; Beyond our grasp; above us;
That day we wandered ‘mid the hill… Clouds are not lonelier,'the for… In emerald darkness 'round us. Ma… And gnarly root, gray-mossed, made… And many a bird the glimmering lig…
The partridge-berry flecks with fl… That leads to ferny hollows where… Drones on the aster. Far away the… Points its deep sapphire with a gl… Here from this height where, clust…
The tripod flared with a purple sp… And the mist hung emerald in the d… Now he stooped to the lilac flame Over the glare of the amber embers… Thrice to utter no earthly name;
Through woods the Spanish moss ma… With deeps the daylight never reac… The water sluices slow its way, And chokes with weeds its beaches. ‘T was here, lost in this lone bay…
There are haunters of the silence,… I have sat with them and hearkened… I have shuddered from their coming… And have cursed them and have bles… At my door I see their shadows; i…
Darkly October; Where the wild fo… Utters a harsh and melancholy cry; And slowly closing, far a sunset d… Day wildly glares upon.the world o… Where Twilight, with one star to…
Above lone woodland ways that led To dells the stealthy twilights tr… The west was hot geranium red; And still, and still, Along old lanes the locusts sow
From 'Wild Thorn and Lily’ Among the white haw-blossoms, wher… Droned under drifts of dogwood and… The redbird, like a crimson blosso… Against the snow-white bosom of th…
I HAD forgot how, in my day The Sabine fields around me lay In amaranth and asphodel, With many a cold Bandusian well Bright-bubbling by the mountain-wa…
The wind that breathes of columbin… And celandines that crowd the rock… That shakes the balsam of the pine… With laughter from his airy locks, Stops at my city door and knocks.
It’s ‘Gallop and go!’ and ‘Slow,… With every man in this life below But the things of this world are a… The postchaise Time that all must… Is old with clay and dust;