#Americans #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury
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
When love is lost, the day sets to… Albeit the morning sun may still b… And not one cloud-ship sails acros… Yet from the places where it used… Gone is the lustrous glory of the…
Of a thousand things that the Yea… The busy Old Year who has gone aw… How many will rise in the Spring,… Brought to life by the sun of May… Will the rose-tree branches, so wh…
Why are thou sad, my Beppo? But… Here at my feet, thy dear head on… I heard thee say thy heart would n… Or feel the olden ennui and unrest… What troubles thee? Am I not all…
The Truth Teller lifts the curtai… And shows us the people’s plight; And everything seems uncertain, And nothing at all looks right. Yet out of the blackness groping,
Who travels alone with his eyes on… Though he laughs in the day time o… For courage goes down at the set o… When the toil of the journey is al… He speeds but to grief though full…
Flowers of France in the Spring, Your growth is a beautiful thing; But give us your fragrance and blo… Yea, give us your lives in truth, Give us your sweetness and grace
Oh, you who read some song that I… What know you of the soul from whe… Dost dream the poet ever speaks al… His secret thought unto the listen… Go take the murmuring sea-shell fr…
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…
In the old wars of the world there… Women of ancient sins who gave the… Women of weak wills and strong des… And, like the poison ivy in the wo… That winds itself about tall viril…
I look to Science for the cure of… To patient righting of a thousand… To final healing of a thousand ill… Blind runner now, and cruel egotis… It yet leads on to more than morta…
Dear friend, I pray thee, if thou… Thy strong regard for me, Make me no vows. Lip-service is n… Let thy faith speak for thee. Swear not to me that nothing can d…
However the battle is ended, Though proudly the victor comes With fluttering flags and prancing… And echoing roll of drums, Still truth proclaims this motto
In Memory’s Mansion are wonderful… And I wander about them at will; And I pause at the casements, whe… Are sending sweet scents o’er the… I lean from a window that looks on…
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…