#AmericanWriters
Aeronaut, you’re fairly caught, Despite your bubble’s leaven: Out of the skies a lady’s eyes Have brought you down to Heaven! No more, no more you’ll freely soa…
San Quentin was brilliant. Within… Of the noble pile with the frownin… (God knows they’ve enough to make… With a Governor trying to break t… Was a blaze of light. ‘Twas the n…
'O warrior with the burnished arms With bullion cord and tassel Pray tell me of the lurid charms Of service and the fierce alarms: The storming of the castle,
Dull were the days and sober, The mountains were brown and bare, For the season was sad October And a dirge was in the air. The mated starlings flew over
'Twas an Injin chieftain, in feat… Who stood on the ocean’s rim; There were numberless leagues of e… But there wasn’t enough for him. So he knuckled a thumb in his pain…
As time rolled on the whole world… A desolation and a darksome curse; And some one said: ‘The changes t… In the fair frame of things, from… Are wrought by strikes. The sun w…
I’m a gorgeous golden hero And my trade is taking life. Hear the twittle-twittle-tweero Of my sibillating fife And the rub-a-dub-a-dum
When, long ago, the young world ci… Through wider reaches of a richer… New-eyed, the men and maids saw, m… The thoughts untold in one another… Each wish displayed, and every pas…
One thousand years I slept beneat… My sleep in 1901 beginning, Then, by the action of some scurvy… Who happened then to recollect my… I was revived and given another in…
Lord of the tempest, pray refrain From leveling this church again. Now in its doom, as so you’ve will… We acquiesce. But _you’ll_ rebuil…
If the wicked gods were willing (Pray it never may be true!) That a universal chilling Should ensue Of the sentiment of loving,
Well, I’ve met her again-at the M… She’d told me to see her no more; It was not a command-a petition; I’d granted it once before. Yes, granted it, hoping she’d writ…
Who told Creed Haymond he was wit… Had nothing better in this world t… Could no greased pig’s appeal to h… Kindle his ardor for the friendly… Did no dead dog upon a vacant lot,
Lord, shed thy light upon his dese… And gild his branded brow, that no… His forfeit life to balk thy holy… That spares him for the ripening o… Already, lo! the red sign is descr…
‘Who drives fat oxen should himsel… Who sings for nobles, he should no… There’s no _non sequitur_, I thin… And this is logic plain as a, b, c… Now, Hector Stuart, you’re a Sco…
