#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
'Twas a serious person with locks… And a figure like a crescent; His gravity, clearly, had come to… But his smile was evanescent. He stood and conversed with a neig…
From end to end, thine avenue, Va… Rang with the cries of battle and… Brave lungs were thundering with d… And perspiration smoked along the… Sing, heavenly muse, to ears of mo…
Cried Allen Forman: 'Doctor, pra… Compose my spirits’ strife: O what may be my chances, say, Of living all my life? ‘For lately I have dreamed of hig…
ROBERT F. MORROW Dear man! although a stranger and… To soft affection’s humanizing glo… Although untaught how manly hearts… With more desires than the desire…
False to his art and to the high c… God laid upon him, Markham’s rebe… Beats all in vain the harp he touc… It yields a jingle and it yields n… No more the strings beneath his fi…
'Twas a Venerable Person, whom I… All appareled as a prophet of a me… And in a jeremaid of objurgatory w… He lifted up his _jodel_ to the fo… O ye sanguinary statesmen, intermi…
Freedom, as every schoolboy knows, Once shrieked as Kosciusko fell; On every wind, indeed, that blows I hear her yell. She screams whenever monarchs meet…
As through the blue expanse he ski… On joyous wings, the late Frank Hutchings overtakes Miss S… Both bound for Heaven’s high gate… In life they loved and (God knows…
Like a worn mother he attempts in… To still the unruly Crier of his… The more he rocks the cradle of hi… The more uproarious grows the brat…
Your influence, my friend, has gat… To east and west its tides encroac… There’ll be, on all God’s foot-st… No clean spot left for God to set…
To him in whom the love of Nature… Imperfectly supplanted the desire And dread necessity of food, your… Fair Oakland, is a terror. Over a… Your sunny level, from Tamaletown
Your various talents, Goldenson,… Respect: you are a poet and can dr… It is a pity that your gifted hand Should ever have been raised again… If you had drawn no pistol, but a…
John Jackson, once a soldier bold… Hath still a martial feeling; So, when he sees a foe, behold! He charges him-with stealing. He cares not how much ground to-da…
LORING PICKERING _(After Pope)_ Here rests a writer, great but not… Born destitute of feeling and of s… No power he but o’er his brain des…
Within my dark and narrow bed I rested well, new-laid: I heard above my fleshless head The grinding of a spade. A gruffer note ensued and grew