#AmericanWriters
It winds along the face of a cliff This path which I long to explore… And over it dashes a waterfall, And the air is full of the roar And the thunderous voice of waters…
Slipping softly through the sky Little horned, happy moon, Can you hear me up so high? Will you come down soon? On my nursery window-sill
A great tall column spearing at th… With a little man on top. Goodnes… He looks a silly thing enough to s… What a strange fellow, like a sold… Tight-fitting coat with the tails…
The little boy pressed his face against the window-pane and looked out at the bright sunshiny morning. The cobble-stones of the square glistened like mica. In the trees, a breeze danced...
My cup is empty to-night, Cold and dry are its sides, Chilled by the wind from the open… Empty and void, it sparkles white… The room is filled with the strang…
The tall yellow hollyhocks stand, Still and straight, With their round blossoms spread o… In the quiet sunshine. And still is the old Roman wall,
An arid daylight shines along the… Dried to a grey monotony of tone, And stranded jelly-fish melt soft… The sun-baked pebbles, far beyond… Sparkles a wet, reviving sea. Her…
Guarded within the old red wall’s… Marshalled like soldiers in gay co… The tulips stand arrayed. Here in… Wheels out into the sunlight. Wha… Sets off their tunics, white with…
Tell me, Was Venus more beautiful Than you are, When she topped The crinkled waves,
Beneath this sod lie the remains Of one who died of growing pains.
As I sit here in the quiet Summer… Suddenly, from the distant road, t… The grind and rush of an electric… And, from still farther off, An engine puffs sharply,
I walk down the garden paths, And all the daffodils Are blowing, and the bright blue s… I walk down the patterned garden p… In my stiff, brocaded gown.
I ask but one thing of you, only o… That always you will be my dream o… That never shall I wake to find u… All this I have believed and rest… Forever vanished, like a vision go…
Blue through the window burns the… Heavy, through trees, blows the wa… Glistening, against the chill, gra… Wet, black branches are barred and… Sodden and spongy, the scarce-gree…
The rain gullies the garden paths And tinkles on the broad sides of… A tree, at the end of my arm, is h… Even so, I can see that it has re… A scarlet fruit,