#AmericanWriters
My lady love lives far away, And oh my heart is sad by day, And ah my tears fall fast by night… What may I do in such a plight. Why, miles grow few when love is f…
The November sun invites me, And although the chill wind smites… I will wander to the woodland Where the laden trees await; And with loud and joyful singing
I NEVER shall furgit that night… An’ all us youngsters clambered in… To school where we was kep’ at wor… But where that night a spellin’—be… 'Twas one o’ Heaven’s banner nigh…
LET me close the eyes of my soul That I may not see What stands between thee and me. Let me shut the ears of my heart That I may not hear
I WAS not; now I am —a few days… I shall not be; I fain would look… And after, but can neither do; som… Or lack of power says 'no’ to all… I stand upon a wide and sunless pl…
DEY was oncet a awful quoil 'twix… De pot was des a—bilin’ an’ de ski… Dey slurred each othah’s colah an’… W’ile de coal—oil can des gu—gled,… De pot, hit called de skillet des…
A BLUE—BELL springs upon the l… A lark sits singing in the hedge; Sweet perfumes scent the balmy air… And life is brimming everywhere. What lark and breeze and bluebird…
ERE sleep comes down to soothe th… Which all the day with ceaseless c… The magic gold which from the seek… Ere dreams put on the gown and cap… And make the waking world a world…
In this sombre garden close What has come and passed, who know… What red passion, what white pain Haunted this dim walk in vain? Underneath the ivied wall,
The world is a snob, and the man w… Is the chap for its money’s worth: And the lust for success causes ha… That are cursing this brave old ea… For it 's fine to go up, and the w…
_A Song_ Poor withered rose, she gave it me… Half in revenge and half in glee; Its petals not so pink by half As are her lips when curled to lau…
UNDERNEATH the autumn sky, Haltingly, the lines go by. Ah, would steps were blithe and ga… As when first they marched away, Smile on lip and curl on brow,
A KNOCK is at her door, but she… Strange dews have washed the paint… She does not rise, but, ah, this f… And knows that he will find her al… So opens he the door, and with sof…
Once Love grew bold and arrogant… Proud of the youth that made him f… So unto Grief he spake, ‘What rig… To part or parcel of this heart?’… Was darkened with the storm of inw…
Aye, lay him in his grave, the old… His life is lived—fulfilled his de… Have you for him no sad, regretful… To drop beside the cold, unfollowe… Can you not pay the tribute of a s…