#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Let me but live my life from year… With forward face and unreluctant… Not hurrying to, nor turning from… Not mourning for the things that d… In the dim past, nor holding back…
Waking from tender sleep, My neighbour’s little child Put out his baby hand to me, Looked in my face, and smiled. It seemed as if he came
Glory of architect, glory of paint… Living forever in temple and pictu… Look how the world with the lights… Brief was the flame of their life,… Where is the Master of Music, and…
Oh, quick to feel the lightest tou… Of beauty or of truth, Rich in the thoughtfulness of age, The hopefulness of youth, The courage of the gentle heart,
They who tread the path of labor f… They who work without complaining,… Nevermore thou needest seek me; I… Raise the stone, and thou shalt fi… Where the many toil together, ther…
The glory of ships is an old, old… since the days when the sea—rovers… In their open boats through the ro… and the spread of the world began; The glory of ships is a light on t…
I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her whit… and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and str… I stand and watch her until at len…
Hours fly, Flowers die: New days, New ways: Pass by!
Let me but love my love without di… Nor wear a mask of fashion old or… Nor wait to speak till I can hear… Nor play a part to shine in others… Nor bow my knees to what my heart…
Dear to my heart are the ancestral… Dearer than if they were haunted b… These are the homes that were buil… They are simple enough to be great… I love the old white farmhouses ne…
Let me but do my work from day to… In field or forest, at the desk or… In roaring market—place or tranqui… Let me but find it in my heart to… When vagrant wishes beckon me astr…
Give us a name to fill the mind With the shining thoughts that lea… The glory of learning, the joy of… A name that tells of a splendid pa… In the long, long toil and the str…
The laggard winter ebbed so slow With freezing rain and melting sno… It seemed as if the earth would st… Forever where the tide was low, In sodden green and watery gray.
The gabled roofs of old Malines Are russet red and gray and green, And o’er them in the sunset hour Looms, dark and huge, St. Rombold… High in that rugged nest concealed…
All the trees are sleeping, all th… All the flocks of fleecy clouds ha… Through the noonday silence, down… Hark, a little hunter’s voice come… “Hide and seek!
