#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee, God of glory, Lord of love; Hearts unfold like flowers before… Praising Thee their sun above. Melt the clouds of sin and sadness…
Her eyes are like the evening air, Her voice is like a rose, Her lips are like a lovely song, That ripples as it flows, And she herself is sweeter than
Hours fly, Flowers die: New days, New ways: Pass by!
Joyful, joyful we adore Thee, God… Hearts unfold like flowers before… Melt the clouds of sin and sadness… Giver of immortal gladness, fill u… All Thy works with joy surround T…
You dare to say with perjured lips… “We fight to make the ocean free”? You, whose black trail of butchere… Bestrews the bed of every sea Where German submarines have wrou…
When the frosty kiss of Autumn in… Makes its mark On the flowers, and the misty morn… Over fallen leaves; Then my olden garden, where the go…
A mocking question! Britain’s ans… Swift as the light and searching a… “Yes, for a scrap of paper we will… Till our last breath, and God def… ”A scrap of paper where a name is…
I put my heart to school In the world, where men grow wise, “Go out,” I said, “and learn the… Come back when you win a prize.” My heart came back again:
0 who will walk a mile with me Along life’s merry way? A comrade blithe and full of glee, Who dares to laugh out loud and fr… And let his frolic fancy play,
How blind the toil that burrows li… In winding graveyard pathways unde… For Browning’s lineage! What if m… Poor footmen or rich merchants on… Of his forbears? Did they beget h…
I read within a poet’s book A word that starred the page: “Stone walls do not a prison make, Nor iron bars a cage!” Yes, that is true; and something m…
How the Young Martimor would Become a Knight and Assay Great Adventure When Sir Lancelot was come out of the Red Launds where he did many deeds of arms, he rested him long with play and...
'Tis fine to see the Old World an… Among the famous palaces and citie… To admire the crumblyh castles and… But now I think I’ve had enough o… So it’s home again, and home again…
I never thought again to hear The Oxford thrushes singing clear… Amid the February rain, Their sweet, indomitable strain. A wintry vapor lightly spreads
“Christ of the Andes,” Christ of… Great lover of the hills, the open… And patient lover of impatient men Who blindly strive and sin and str… Thou Living Word, larger than any…
