#Americans #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury #PoemsOfPower
I heard such a curious story Of Santa Claus. Once, so they sa… He set out to find what people wer… Before he took presents their way. ‘This year I will give but to giv…
You may thrill with the speed of y… You may laugh with delight as you… You may rush afar in your touring… Leaping, sweeping, by things that… But you never will know the joy of…
What would I ask the kindly fates… To crown her life, if I could hav… My strongest wishes would be negat… If they would but obey. Give her not greatness. For grea…
Said the manicure scissors one day… ‘The shears always have their own… And I think it absurd That I am deterred From entering into life’s fray.
How terrible these nights are when… With our scarred hearts, we sit in… And some old sorrow, to the world… Does suddenly with silent steps in… After the guests departed, and the…
In golden youth when seems the ear… A Summer-land of singing mirth, When souls are glad and hearts are… And not a shadow lurks in sight, We do not know it, but there lieu
Camouflage is all the rage. Ladies in their fight with age– Soldiers in their fight with foes– Demagogues who mask and pose In the guise of statesmen-girls
I am troubled to-night with a curi… It is not of the flesh, it is not… Nor yet of a heart that is breakin… But down still deeper, and out of… In the place where the soul and th…
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,
Straight through my heart this fac… By Truth’s own hand is driven: God never takes one thing away, But something else is given. I did not know in earlier years,
Let us begin, dear love, where we… Tie up the broken threads of that… And go on happy as before; and see… Lovers again, though all the world… Let us forget the graves, which li…
Who knows the way to wonderland? Oh, I know, Oh, I know! Trotty-te-trot on mama’s knee, Then over the billows of sleepy se… Down through the straits of by-lo,
When from dawn till noon seems one… And from noon till night another, Oh, then should a little boy come… And creep into the arms of his mot… Snugly creep and fall asleep,
After the fierce midsummer all abl… Has burned itself to ashes, and ex… In the intensity of its own fires, There come the mellow, mild, St.… Crowned with the calm of peace, bu…
Alone it stands in Poesy’s fair l… A temple by the muses set apart; A perfect structure of consummate… By artists builded and by genius p… Beyond the reach of the apprentice…