#AmericanWriters
Roses, rooted warm in earth, Bud in rhyme, another age; Lilies know a ghostly birth Strewn along a patterned page; Golden lad and chimbley sweep
No more my little song comes back; And now of nights I lay My head on down, to watch the blac… And wait the unfailing gray. Oh, sad are winter nights, and slo…
Now this must be the sweetest plac… From here to heaven’s end; The field is white with flowering… The birches leap and bend, The hills, beneath the roving sun,
There still are kindly things for… Who am afraid to dream, afraid to… This little chair of scrubbed and… This easy book, this fire, sedate… And I shall stay with them, nor c…
The pure and worthy Mrs. Stowe Is one we all are proud to know As mother, wife, and authoress– Thank God, I am content with less…
Oh, seek, my love, your newer way; I’ll not be left in sorrow. So long as I have yesterday, Go take your damned tomorrow!
On sweet young earth where the myr… Long we lay, when the May was new… The willow was winding the moon in… The bud of the rose was told with… And now on the brittle ground I’m…
Because my love is quick to come a… A little here, and then a little t… What use are any words of mine to… My heart is stubborn, and my spiri… Of weathering the drip and drive o…
Daily dawns another day; I must up, to make my way. Though I dress and drink and eat, Move my fingers and my feet, Learn a little, here and there,
There’s little in taking or giving… There’s little in water or wine; This living, this living, this liv… Was never a project of mine. Oh, hard is the struggle, and spar…
Into love and out again, Thus I went, and thus I go. Spare your voice, and hold your pe… Well and bitterly I know All the songs were ever sung,
The stars are soft as flowers, and… The hills are webs of shadow, slow… No separate leaf or single blade i… All blend to one. No moonbeam cuts the air; a sapphi…
Who was there had seen us Wouldn’t bid him run? Heavy lay between us All our sires had done. There he was, a-springing
He will love you presently If you be the way you be. Send your heart a-skittering. He will stoop, and lift the thing. Be your dreams as thread, to tease
Drink and dance and laugh and lie, Love, the reeling midnight through… For tomorrow we shall die! (But, alas, we never do.)