#Americans #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury #1914 #PoemsOfCheer
And now, when poets are singing Their songs of olden days, And now, when the land is ringing With sweet Centennial lays, My muse goes wandering backward,
It may be, yet I have not found i… In those first golden dreams of fu… I did not find such happiness as c… When toil was crowned with triumph… My words have recognition, and wil…
Whatever the strength of our foes… Whatever it may have been, This is our slogan, and this our v… They shall not win, they shall not… Though out of the darkness they ca…
If I were a raindrop, and you wer… I would burst from the cloud above… And lie on your breast in a raptur… And love you, love you, love you. If I were a brown bee, and you we…
Life is a privilege. Its youthful… Shine with the radiance of continu… To live, to breathe, to wonder and… To feed with dreams the heart’s pe… To thrill with virtuous passions,…
The strings of my heart were strun… And I laughed when the music fell… For he and Mirth played a joyful… And they played so loud that I co… The wailing and mourning of souls…
Here in my office I sit and write Hour on hour, and day on day, With no one to speak to from morn… Though I have a neighbour just ov… Across the alley that yawns betwee…
You left me with the autumn time; When the winter stripped the fores… Then dressed it in his spotless ri… When frosts were lurking in the ai… You left me here and went away.
Give us that grand word woman once… And let’s have done with lady: one… Full of fine force, strong, beauti… Fit for the noblest use of tongue… And one’s a word for lackeys. One…
Out from my window westward I turn full oft my face; But the mountains rebuke the visio… That would encompass space; They lift their lofty foreheads
Long have I searched, Cathedral s… To find a symbol, from the hand of… That gave the full expression (not… Of that ecstatic peace which follo… Life’s pain and passion. Strange…
The uses of sorrow I comprehend Better and better at each year’s e… Deeper and deeper I seem to see Why and wherefore it has to be. Only after the dark, wet days
My heart is like a little bird That sits and sings for very gladn… Sorrow is some forgotten word, And so, except in rhyme, is sadnes… The world is very fair to me—
O praise me not with your lips, de… Though your tender words I prize. But dearer by far is the soulful g… Of your eyes, your beautiful eyes Your tender, loving eyes.
Over the banisters bends a face, Daringly sweet and beguiling. Somebody stands in careless grace, And watches the picture, smiling. The light burns dim in the hall be…
