#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Wordsworth, thy music like a river… Among the mountains, and thy song… By living springs far up the water… No whirling flood nor parching dro… The crystal current: even on the s…
Heart of France for a hundred yea… Passionate, sensitive, proud, and… Quick to throb with her hopes and… Fierce to flame with her sense of… You, who hailed with a morning son…
'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…
Break off! Dance no more! Danger is at the door. Music is in arms. To signal war’s alarms. Hark, a sudden trumpet calling
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:
One sail in sight upon the lonely… And only one, God knows! For neve… But mine broke through the icy gat… These waters, greater grown than a… We left the shores of England. We…
If on the closed curtain of my sig… My fancy paints thy portrait far a… I see thee still the same, by nigh… Crossing the crowded street, or mo… 'Mid festal throngs, or reading by…
If Might made Right, life were a… If Right made Might, this were th… But now, until we win the long cam… Right must gain Might to conquer…
The shadow by my finger cast Divides the future from the past: Before it, sleeps the unborn hour In darkness, and beyond thy power: Behind its unreturning line,
In mirth he mocks the other birds… Catching the lilt of every easy tu… But when the day departs he sings… His own wild song beneath the list…
There was a handful of clay in the bank of a river. It was only common clay, coarse and heavy; but it had high thoughts of its own value, and wonderful dreams of the great place which i...
In robes of Tyrian blue the King… A jewelled collar shone upon his b… A giant ruby glittered in his crow… Lord of rich lands and many a sple… In him the glories of an ancient l…
In the pleasant time of Pentecost… By the little river Kyll, I followed the angler’s winding pa… Or waded the stream at will, And the friendly fertile German l…
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…
In a great land, a new land, a lan… and riches and confusion, Where there were many running to a… shouting, and striving together, In the midst of the hurry and the…
