#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters #PoemsOfPower
Let the old snow be covered with t… The trampled snow, so soiled, and… Let it be hidden wholly from our v… By pure white flakes, all trackles… When Winter dies, low at the swee…
There is no picturesqueness and no… No halo of romance, in war to-day. It is a hideous thing; Time would… With horror, were he not already h… At sight of this vile monster, fou…
One bitter time of mourning, I re… When day, and night, my sad heart… My life, I said, was one cold, bl… And all its pleasures, were but wh… Nothing could rouse me from my sul…
You call me an angel of love and o… A being of goodness and heavenly f… Sent out from God’s kingdom to gu… In paths where your spirit may mou… You say that I glow like a star o…
Adieu, Romauld! But thou canst no… Although no more I haunt thy drea… Thy hungering heart forever must r… And starve for those lost moments… Naught shall avail thy priestly ri…
To sin by silence, when we should… Makes cowards out of men. The hum… Has climbed on protest. Had no vo… Against injustice, ignorance and l… The Inquisition yet would serve t…
With each strong thought, with eve… For aught thou deemest needful to… Invisible vast forces are set thro… Between thee and that goal ’Tis only when some hidden weaknes…
Now, while thy rounded cheek is fr… While beauty lingers, laughing, in… Ere thy young heart shall meet the… Or thy blithe soul become the home… Were it not kindness should I giv…
I know two women, and one is chast… And cold as the snows on a winters… Stainless ever I act and thought (As a man, born dumb, in speech er… But she has malice toward her kind…
When I am dead, if some chastened… Seeing the ‘item, ’ or hearing it… That my play is over and my part d… And I lie asleep in my narrow bed… If I could know that some soul wo…
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
Thou dost not know it! but to hear One word of praise from thee, There is no pain I would not bear… No task too great for me. My hands could tireless toil all d…
I am tired to-night, and something… The wind maybe, or the rain, Or the cry of a bird in the copse… Has brought back the past and its… And I feel as I sit here thinking…
The mighty forces of mysterious sp… Are one by one subdued by lordly m… The awful lightning that for eons… Their devastating and untrammelled… Now bear his messages from place t…
There’s a terrible steed that rest… But onward and onward, for ever aw… Through hamlet, through village, t… Is heard the dread thud of his hoo… Is seen the fierce eye, is felt th…