#Americans #Women
I saw the day lean o’er the world’… And peer into night’s chasm, dark… High in his hand he held a blazing… Then dropped it and plunged headlo… With lurid splendor that swift pal…
Though you see no banded army, Though you hear no cannons rattle, We are in a mighty contest, We are fighting a great battle. We are few, but we are right:
Hers was a lonely, shadowed lot; Or so the unperceiving thought, Who looked no deeper than her face… Devoid of chiselled lines of grace… No farther than her humble grate,
‘Little kids,’ you call us As we are at play. You were little children Just the other day. Now to-morrow nears us,
Last was the wealth I carried in… Youth, health, ambition, hope and… And Fate, those robbers fit for a… Stole all, and left me but the emp… Before me lay a long and lonely tr…
My thoughts soar not as they ought… Higher and higher on soul-lent win… But ever and often and more and mo… They are dragged down earthward by… By little troubles and little need…
Three Souls there were that reach… And gained permission of the Guar… Barred from the bliss of Paradise… They did not ask or hope to enter… ‘We loved one woman (thus their st…
Let no man pray that he know not s… Let no soul ask to be free from pa… For the gall of to-day is the swee… And the moment’s loss is the lifet… Through want of a thing does its w…
Just a little every day– That’s the way! Seeds in darkness swell and grow, Tiny blades push through the snow; Never any flower of May
Life and I are lovers, straying Arm in arm along: Often like two children Maying, Full of mirth and song, Life plucks all the blooming hours
Because of the fullness of what I… All that I have seems poor and va… If I had not been happy, I were n… Tho’ my salt is savorless, why com… From the ripe perfection of what w…
A vision beauteous as the morn, With heavenly eyes and tresses str… Slow glided o’er a field late shor… Where walked a poet idly dreaming. He saw her, and joy lit his face.
There is a haunting phantom called… A shadowy creature robed somewhat… But fairer in the face, whom all m… By her said mien, and eyes forever… No heart would seek her; but once…
Soar not too high, O bird of Hop… Because the skies are fair; The tempest may come on apace And overcome thee there. When far above the mountain tops
But to every mind there openeth, A way, and way, and away, A high soul climbs the highway, And the low soul gropes the low, And in between on the misty flats,