#AmericanWriters
There’s a habit I have nurtured, From the sentimental time When my life was like a story, And my heart a happy rhyme,— Of clipping from the paper,
To the Elect of Love,—or side-by-… In raptest ecstasy, or sundered wi… By seas that bear no message to or… Between the loved and lost of long… So were I but a minstrel, deft
Let us be thankful—not only becaus… Since last our universal thanks we… We have grown greater in the world… And fortune’s newer smiles surpass… But thankful for all things that c…
The Town Karnteel—! It’s who’ll… Its praises jushtifiable? For who can sing av anything So lovely and reliable? Whin Summer, Spring, or Winter l…
A day of torpor in the sullen heat Of Summer’s passion: In the slugg… The panting cattle lave their lazy… With drowsy eyes, and dream. Long since the winds have died, an…
If I knew what poets know, Would I write a rhyme Of the buds that never blow In the summer-time? Would I sing of golden seeds
Who would be A merman gay, Singing alone, Sitting alone, With a mermaid’s knee,
Dexery-tethery! down in the dike, Under the ooze and the slime, Nestles the wraith of a reticent… Blubbering bubbles of rhyme: Though the reeds touch him and tic…
'I have twankled the strings of th… I have burnished the meteor’s mail… I have bridled the wind When he whinnied and whined With a bunch of stars tied to his…
There is ever a song somewhere, my… There is ever a something sings al… There’s the song of the lark when… And the song of the thrush when th… The sunshine showers across the gr…
‘Hey, Bud! O Bud!’ rang out a gl… '_The Loehrs is come to your hous… But very much elated little chap, In snowy linen-suit and tasseled c… Leaped from the back-fence just ac…
Queenly month of indolent repose! I drink thy breath in sips of rare… As in thy downy lap of clover-bloo… I nestle like a drowsy child and d… The lazy hours away. The zephyr t…
And there, in that ripe Summer-ni… A wintry coolness through the open… And window seemed to touch each gl… Refreshingly; and, for a fleeting… The quickened fancy, through the f…
Bud, come here to your uncle a spe… And I’ll tell you something you m… For it’s a secret and shore-'nuf t… And maybe I oughtn’t to tell it t… But out in the garden, under the s…
_You who to the rounded prime_ _Of a life of toil and stress_, _Still have kept the morning-time_ _Of glad youth in heart and spirit… _So your laugh, as children hear i…