#AmericanWriters
If thou art sleeping, maiden, Awake, and open thy door: 'Tis the break of day, and we must… O’er meadow, and mount, and moor. Wait not to find thy slippers,
Spake full well, in language quain… One who dwelleth by the castled R… When he called the flowers, so blu… Stars, that in earth’s firmament d… Stars they are, wherein we read ou…
I am the God Thor, I am the War God, I am the Thunderer! Here in my Northland, My fastness and fortress,
Torrent of light and river of the… Along whose bed the glimmering sta… Like gold and silver sands in some… Where mountain streams have left t… The Spaniard sees in thee the pat…
How much of my young heart, O Spa… Went out to thee in days of yore! What dreams romantic filled my bra… And summoned back to life again The Paladins of Charlemagne,
The night is come, but not too soo… And sinking silently, All silently, the little moon Drops down behind the sky. There is no light in earth or heav…
Once on a time, some centuries ago… In the hot sunshine two Francisca… Wended their weary way, with foots… Back to their convent, whose white… Gleamed on the hillside like a pat…
King Solomon, before his palace g… At evening, on the pavement tessel… Was walking with a stranger from t… Arrayed in rich attire as for a fe… The mighty Runjeet-Sing, a learne…
Lo! in the paintedoriel of the We… Whose panes the sunken sun incarna… Like a fair lady at her casement,… The evening star, the star of love… And then anon she doth herself div…
Labor with what zeal we will, Something still remains undone, Something uncompleted still Waits the rising of the sun. By the bedside, on the stair,
At The Consecration Of Pulaski’… When the dying flame of day Through the chancel shot its ray, Far the glimmering tapers shed Faint light on the cowléd head;
There was a little girl, Who had a little curl, Right in the middle of her forehea… When she was good, She was very good indeed,
Will then, Duperrier, thy sorrow… And shall the sad discourse Whispered within thy heart, by ten… Only augment its force? Thy daughter’s mournful fate, into…
'Twas Pentecost, the Feast of Gl… When woods and fields put off all… Thus began the King and spake: So from the halls Of ancient Hofburgh’s walls,
Loudly the sailors cheered Svend of the Forked Beard, As with his fleet he steered Southward to Vendland; Where with their courses hauled