#AmericanWriters
When by the wall the tiger-flower… A head of sultry slumber and aroma… And by the path, whereon the blown… Its obsolete beauty, the long lili… White place of perfume, like a bea…
Down all the lanterned Bagdad of… He steals, with golden justice for… Within his palace you shall know t… A blood-smeared headsman hides beh…
An old, lost lane; where can it le… To stony pastures, where the weed Purples its plume, or sails its se… And from one knoll, the vetch make… Trailing its glimmering ribbon on,
A pond of filth a sewer flows into… Around whose edge the evil ragweed… Poison in every breath; and, cloud… Insects that sing and sting, the p… All hideousness, from every street…
Like some wild child that laughs a… Impatient of its mother’s arms, The wood brook from the hillside l… Eager to reach the neighboring far… Complaining crystal in its throat
Rain will fall on the fading flowe… Winds will blow through the drippi… When Fall leads in her tattered H… With Death to keep them company. All night long in the weeping weat…
THEY pass, with heavy eyes and h… Before the Christ upon the Cross, The Nations, stricken with their… And lifting faces of despair. What is the prayer they pray to H…
In the frail hepaticas,- That the early Springtide tossed, Sapphire-like, along the ways Of the woodlands that she crossed,… I behold, with other eyes,
The frogs still cry, ‘Knee-deep!… Among its starlit pools, When dark the woodland lies asleep… And dusk its water cools: The fireflies round its bank of fe…
The gray dawn finds me thinking st… Of thee who hadst my thoughts all… Of thee, who art my lute’s sweet s… And of my soul the only light; My star of song to whom I turn
I. SPRING ON THE HILLS Ah, shall I follow, on the hills, The Spring, as wild wings follow? Where wild-plum trees make wan the… Crabapple trees the hollow,
Pale as a star that shines through… Her face was seen at the window-pa… Her sad, frail face that watched i… The face of a girl whose brow was… To whom the kind sun spoke at dawn…
Here is a tale for men and women t… There was a girl who’d ceased to b… Who walked by night with heart lik… A child of sin anathemaed of preac… She had been lovely once; but dye…
You, who are met to remember Kentucky and give her praise; Who have warmed your hearts at the… Of her love for many days! Be faithful to your mother,
From morn till noon upon the windo… The tempest tapped with rainy fing… And all the afternoon the blusteri… Beat at the door with furious feet… The rose, near which the lily bloo…