#AmericanWriters
He told a story to her, A story old yet new And was it of the Faëry Folk That dance along the dew? The night was hung with silence
How often in our search for joy be… Hoping for happiness we chance on…
I saw the daughters of the ocean d… With wind and tide, and heard them… White hands they waved me, tossing… Green as the light an emerald hold… Their music bound me as with necro…
There’s a bug at night that goes Drowsily down the garden ways; Lumberingly above the rose, And above the jasmine sprays; Bumping, bungling, buzzing by,
The hills are full of prophecies And ancient voices of the dead; Of hidden shapes that no man sees, Pale, visionary presences, That speak the things no tongue ha…
The unpretentious flowers of the w… That rise in bright and banded bro… Waving us welcome, and with kisses… Laying their lives down underneath… Lesson my soul more than the tomes…
All day the primroses have thought… Their golden heads close-haremed f… All day the mystic moonflowers sil… Veiled snowy faces, that no bee mi… Or butterfly that, weighed with po…
LIFE was unkind to him; All things went wrong: Fortune assigned to him Merely a song. Ever a mystery
Man’s are the learnings of his boo… What is all knowledge that he know… Beside the wit of winding brooks, The wisdom of the summer rose! How soil distills the scent in flo…
What words of mine can tell the sp… Of garden ways I know so well?- The path that takes me in the spri… Past quince-trees where the bluebi… And peonies are blossoming,
Miranda-like, above the world she… The wand of Prospero; and, beauti… Ariel the airy, Caliban the dull, Lightning and steam, are her unwil…
White roses, like a mist Upon a terraced height, And 'mid the roses, opal, moonbeam… A fountain falling white. And as the full moon flows,
What magic through your snowy crys… Your hollow spar, Spring brims wi… That, like the cup of Comus, drug… This woodland place, so drowsed wi… What miracle evolved you from the…
The beauty of the day put joy, Unbounded, in the woodland’s breas… Through which the wind, like some… Ran on and took no rest. The little stream that made its ho…
Dark in the west the sunset’s somb… Unrolled vast walls the rams of wa… Along whose battlements the battle… Tempestuous beacons; and, with gat… A mighty city, red with ruin and s…