#AmericanWriters
I’m twins, I guess, 'cause my Ma… I’m two little girls. An’ one o’… Is _Good_ little girl; an’ th’oth… Is _Bad little girl as she can be… An’ Ma say so, 'most ever’ day.
Blossoms crimson, white, or blue, Purple, pink, and every hue, From sunny skies, to tintings drow… In dusky drops of dew, I praise you all, wherever found,
Say farewell, and let me go; Shatter every vow! All the future can bestow Will be welcome now! And if this fair hand I touch
Donn Piatt—of Mac-o-chee,— Not the one of History, Who, with flaming tongue and pen, Scathes the vanities of men; Not the one whose biting wit
‘The voice of One hath spoken, And the bended reed is bruised— The golden bowl is broken, And the silver cord is loosed.’ Over the eyes of gladness
Season of snows, and season of flo… Seasons of loss and gain!— Since grief and joy must alike be… Why do we still complain? Ever our failing, from sun to sun,
'I deem that God is not disquiete… This in a mighty poet’s rhymes I… And blazoned so forever doth abide Within my soul the legend glorifie… Though awful tempests thunder over…
The touches of her hands are like… Of velvet snowflakes; like the tou… The peach just brushes 'gainst the… The flossy fondlings of the thistl… Caught in the crinkle of a leaf of…
Take a feller 'at’s sick and laid… All shaky, and ga’nted, and pore— Jes all so knocked out he can’t ha… With a stiff upper-lip any more; Shet him up all alone in the gloom…
Illileo, the moonlight seemed lost… The stars but strewed the azure as… The airs of night were quiet as th… And all your words were sweeter th… Illileo Legardi, in the garden th…
Like a drift of faded blossoms Caught in a slanting rain, His fingers glimpsed down the stri… In a tremulous refrain: Patter and tinkle, and drip and dr…
My father’s halls, so rich and rar… Are desolate and bleak and bare; My father’s heart and halls are on… Since I, their life and light, am… O, valiant knight, with hand of st…
The winds have talked with him con… The trees have whispered to him; a… Hath held him gently as a mother m… And taught him all sad tones of me… The mountains have bowed to him; a…
The summer winds is sniffin’ round… locus’ trees; And the clover in the pastur is a… And they been a-swiggin’ honey, ab… sly,
Hereafter! O we need not waste Our smiles or tears, whatever befa… No happiness but holds a taste Of something sweeter, after all;— No depth of agony but feels