#AmericanWriters
The wild oxalis Among the valleys Lifts up its chalice Of pink and pearl; And, balsam-breathing,
THERE is no rhyme that is half s… As the song of the wind in the rip… There is no metre that ’s half so… As the lilt of the brook under roc… And the loveliest lyric I ever he…
The dim verbena drugs the dusk With lemon-heavy odours where The heliotropes breathe drowsy mus… Into the jasmine-dreamy air; The moss-rose bursts its dewy husk
There is no inspiration in the vie… From where this acorn drops its th… The landscape stretches like a sha… The wrinkled hills hang haggard an… Above them hollows the heaven’s st…
First Came the rain, loud, with s… A pursuivant who heralded a prince… And dawn put on her livery of tint… And dusk bound gold about her hair… And, all in silver mail, the sunli…
The spring may come in her pomp an… And Summer follow with rain and r… Or Fall lead in that old offender… Winter, close-huddled up in snows: Ever a-South the Love-wind blows
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,
I saw a name carved on a tree— ‘Julia’; A simpler name there could not be— Julia: But seeing it I seemed to see
Magician he, who, autumn nights, Down from the starry heavens whirl… A harlequin in spangled tights, Whose wand’s touch carpets earth w… Through him each pane presents a s…
Thus have I pictured her:-In Ard… A white-browed maiden with a falco… Rose-flushed of face, with locks o… Teaching her hawks to fly. Or, 'mid her boar-hounds, panting…
Wild ridge on ridge the wooded hil… Between whose breezy vistas gulfs… Pilot great clouds like towering a… And hawk and buzzard breast the az… With many a foaming fall and glimm…
I Thought of the road through the… With its hawk’s nest high in the p… With its rock, where the fox had h… ‘Mid tangles of sumach and vine, Where she swore to be mine.
The clouds that tower in storm, th… Arterial thunder in their veins; The wildflowers lifting, shyly swe… Their perfect faces from the plain… All high, all lowly things of Ear…
A Mile of lane, hedged high with… And dying daisies, white with sun,… Downward into a wood; through whic… Steals like a shadow; over which i… A bridge of logs, worn deep by man…
Upon the summit of his Century He reared a Palace of enduring Ar… From whose wild windows never more… Beauty’s pale light and starry fan… Within is music, sobbing ceaseless…