#AmericanWriters #PoemsOfPower
Falling upon the frozen world last… I heard the slow beat of the Wint… Poor foolish drops, down-dripping… The ice-bound Earth but mocked th… Far better had the fixedness of wh…
The saddest hour of anguish and of… Is not that season of supreme desp… When we can find no least light an… To gild the dread, black shadow of… Not in that luxury of sorrow when
Uncle Rob says: Once the daisies all were white, Till a baby fellow Ate his supper down one night, And stained his face all yellow.
In his great cushioned chair by th… An old man sits dreaming to-night, His withered hands, licked by the… Warm rays of the red anthracite, Are folded before him, all listles…
When first I looked upon the face… I shrank repelled, as one shrinks… Who stands with dagger poised, as… I was in search of Pleasure and o… I turned aside to let him pass: in…
On the white throat of useless pas… That scorched my soul with its bur… I clutched my fingers in murderous… And gathered them close in a grip… For why should I fan, or feed wit…
Beside an incubator stood The would-be mother of a brood. With drooping wings and nodding he… These are the clucked-out words sh… ‘O, vile invention of the age,
The sweet young Spring walks over… It flushes and glows on moor and l… The birds are singing in careless… The brook flows cheerily on to the… And I know that the flowers are b…
God, what a world, if men in stree… Felt that same kinship of the huma… Which makes them, in the face of f… Rise to the meaning of True Broth…
These agent men! these agent men! We hear the dreaded step again, We see a stranger at the door; And brace ourselves for war once m… He bows and smiles. ‘Walk in,’ we…
O mother who sips sweetened liquor… Look down at the child on your bre… Think, think of the rough path bef… And ask yourself then, ‘Is it bes… Shall I foster a love for this po…
High in the heavens I saw the moo… Albeit the sun shone bright; Unto my soul it spoke, in voice of… ‘Remember Night! ’
Straight through my heart this fac… By Truth’s own hand is driven: God never takes one thing away, But something else is given. I did not know in earlier years,
Bohemia, o’er thy unatlassed borde… How many cross, with half-reluctan… And unformed fears of dangers and… To find delights, more wholesome a… Than ever yet were known to the “e…
Never since the race was started, Had a boy in any clime, Cause to be so thankful-hearted, As the boys of present time. Not a girl in old times living–