#Americans #Women
Friend of my youth, let us talk of… Of the long lost golden hours. When “Winter” meant only Christma… And “Summer” wreaths of flowers. Life has grown old, and cold, my f…
Don’t bring into the lodge-room Anger, and spite, and pride. Drop at the gate of the temple The strife of the world outside. Forget all your cares and trials,
As the old year sinks down in Tim… Stand ready to launch with the new… And waste no regrets, no emotion, As the masts and the spars pass fr… Weep not if some treasures go unde…
Nay, Romney, nay—I will not hear… Those words again: “I love you, l… You are profane—blasphemous. I r… You are no actor for so grand a pl… You love with all your heart? We…
Our thoughts are moulding unmade s… And, like a blessing or a curse, They thunder down the formless yea… And ring throughout the universe. We build our futures by the shape
The man of God stands, on the Sab… Warning the sinners from the broad… That leads to death. He rolls his… And tells how wily demons hidden l… To spring upon the thoughtless sou…
I told you the winter would go, lo… I told you the winter would go, That he’d flee in shame when the s… And you smiled when I told you so… You said the blustering fellow
BOOK FIRST. ALL valor died not on the plains… Awake, my Muse, awake! be thine t… To sing of deeds as dauntless and… As e’er lent luster to a warrior’s…
There is much that makes me sorry… And I seem to see more pathos in… I’m sorry for the strong, brave me… But who, in their own troubled hou… I’m sorry for the victors who have…
Whatever the task that comes your… Just take it as part of your luck. Look it right square in the eyes,… ‘This is my
Like some schoolmaster, kind in be… Who hears the children crying o’er… And calling, “Help me, master!” y… Since in his silence and refusal l… Their self-development, so God ab…
A humble wild-rose, pink and slend… Was plucked and placed in a bright… Beside a Jacqueminot’s royal sple… And both in my lady’s boudoir lay. Said the haughty bud, in a tone of…
Beside an incubator stood The would-be mother of a brood. With drooping wings and nodding he… These are the clucked-out words sh… ‘O, vile invention of the age,
Sirs, when you pity us, I say You waste your pity. Let it stay… Well corked and stored upon your s… Until you need it for yourselves. We do appreciate God’s thought
Every morning, as I walk down From my dreary lodgings, toward th… I see at a window, near the street… The face of a woman, fair and swee… With soft brown eyes and chestnut…
