#AmericanWriters
THOUGH all the fates should pro… Leave not your native land behind. The ship, becalmed, at length stan… The steed must rest beneath the hi… But swiftly still our fortunes pac…
The wind has gently murmured through the blinds, or puffed with feathery softness against the windows, and occasionally sighed like a summer zephyr lifting the leaves along, the livelon...
I wish to speak a word for nature, for absolute freedom and wildness, as contrasted with a freedom and culture merely civil—to regard man as an inhabitant, or a part and parcel of natur...
Chancing to take a memorable walk by moonlight some years ago, I resolved to take more such walks, and make acquaintance with another side of nature. I have done so. According to Pliny,...
ALL things are current found On earthly ground, Spirits and elements Have their descents. Night and day, year on year,
Great God, I ask for no meaner pe… Than that I may not disappoint my… That in my action I may soar as h… As I can now discern with this cl… And next in value, which thy kindn…
Whate’er we leave to God, God doe… And blesses us; The work we choose should be our o… God leaves alone. If with light head erect I sing,
Having walked about eight miles since we struck the beach, and passed the boundary between Wellfleet and Truro, a stone post in the sand—for even this sand comes under the jurisdiction ...
I think awhile of Love, and while… Love is to me a world, Sole meat and sweetest drink, And close connecting link Tween heaven and earth.
Men say they know many things; But lo! they have taken wings,— The arts and sciences, And a thousand appliances; The wind that blows
We learn that Mr. Etzler is a native of Germany, and originally published his book in Pennsylvania, ten or twelve years ago; and now a second English edition, from the original American...
centeredWritten around 1840 for The Dial, it was rejected and remained unpublished until 1902. The brave man is the elder son of creation, who has stepped buoyantly into his inheritance...
Within the circuit of this ploddin… There enter moments of an azure hu… Untarnished fair as is the violet Or anemone, when the spring strews… By some meandering rivulet, which…
Letter to the editor of The Liberator, March 28, 1845. We have now, for the third winter, had our spirits refreshed, and our faith in the destiny of the Commonwealth strengthened, by th...
Here lies the body of this world, Whose soul alas to hell is hurled. This golden youth long since was p… Its silver manhood went as fast, An iron age drew on at last;