#1914 #AmericanWriters #PoemsOfCheer
There is something in the sound of… That stirs all the savage instinct… In the old times of peace we went… Through proper days Of little joys and tasks. Lonely…
Said Willie to Tom ‘Let us hie a… To the wonderful Island of Endles… It lies off the border of ’No Sch… And abounds with pleasures, I und… There boys go swimming whenever th…
The brewer’s dog is abroad, boys, Be careful where you stray, His teeth are coated with poison, And he’s on the watch for prey. The brewery is his kennel,
Under the snow, in the dark and th… A pale little sprout was humming; Sweetly it sang, ’neath the frozen… Of the beautiful days that were co… “How foolish your songs!” said a l…
Where are the temperance people? Well, scattered here and there: Some gathering in their produce To show at the autumn fair; Some threshing wheat for market,
I hold it the duty of one who is g… And specially dowered in all men’s… To know no rest till his life is l… Fully up to his great gifts’ heigh… He must mould the man into rare co…
Why sit ye idly dreaming all the d… While the golden, precious hours f… See you not the day is waning, wan… That the morn’s already vanished i… When the glowing noon approaches,…
And now, when poets are singing Their songs of olden days, And now, when the land is ringing With sweet Centennial lays, My muse goes wandering backward,
I know not whence I came, I know not whither I go; But the fact stands clear that I… In this world of pleasure and woe. And out of the mist and murk
The hurry of the times affects us… In this swift rushing hour, we cro… And thrust each other backward as… And do not pause to lay sufficient… Upon that good, strong, true word,…
Sometimes I feel so passionate a… For spiritual perfection here belo… This vigorous frame, with healthfu… Seems my determined foe, So actively it makes a stern resis…
The sun rode high in a cloudless s… Of a perfect summer morn. She stood and gazed out into the s… And wondered why she was born. On the topmost branch of a maple-t…
To each progressive soul there com… When all things that have pleased… Grow flavourless, the springs of j… No more the waters of youth’s foun… Yet out of reach, tiptoeing as the…
Flowers of France in the Spring, Your growth is a beautiful thing; But give us your fragrance and blo… Yea, give us your lives in truth, Give us your sweetness and grace
High o’er the clouds a sunbeam sho… And far down under him, With a subtle grace that was all h… The mist gleamed fair and dim. He looked at her with his burning…