#AmericanWriters
Oh, thicker, deeper, darker growin… The solemn vista to the tomb Must know henceforth another shado… And give another cypress room. In love surpassing that of brother…
Type of two mighty continents!—com… The strength of Europe with the w… Of Asian song and prophecy,—the s… Of Orient splendors over Northern… Who shall receive him? Who, unblu…
We saw the slow tides go and come, The curving surf-lines lightly dra… The gray rocks touched with tender… Beneath the fresh-blown rose of da… We saw in richer sunsets lost
NOT unto us who did but seek The word that burned within to spe… Not unto us this day belong The triumph and exultant song. Upon us fell in early youth
Is it the palm, the cocoa-palm, On the Indian Sea, by the isles o… Or is it a ship in the breezeless… A ship whose keel is of palm benea… Whose ribs of palm have a palm-bar…
The pines were dark on Ramoth hil… Their song was soft and low; The blossoms in the sweet May win… Were falling like the snow. The blossoms drifted at our feet,
Friend of my many years! When the great silence falls, at l… Let me not leave, to pain and sadd… A memory of tears, But pleasant thoughts alone.
Take our hands, James Russell Lo… Our hearts are all thy own; To-day we bid thee welcome Not for ourselves alone. In the long years of thy absence
Who gives and hides the giving han… Nor counts on favor, fame, or prai… Shall find his smallest gift outwe… The burden of the sea and land. Who gives to whom hath naught been…
FOR the fairest maid in Hampton They needed not to search, Who saw young Anna favor Come walking into church,— Or bringing from the meadows,
O HOLY FATHER! just and true Are all Thy works and words and w… And unto Thee alone are due Thanksgiving and eternal praise! As children of Thy gracious care,
ALL night above their rocky bed They saw the stars march slow; The wild Sierra overhead, The desert’s death below. The Indian from his lodge of bark…
‘ALL ready?’ cried the captain; ‘Ay, ay!’ the seamen said; ‘Heave up the worthless lubbers, ’… The dying and the dead.' Up from the slave-ship’s prison
‘Encore un hymne, O ma lyre Un hymn pour le Seigneur, Un hymne dans mon delire, Un hymne dans mon bonheur.’ One hymn more, O my lyre!
Long since, a dream of heaven I h… And still the vision haunts me oft… I see the saints in white robes cl… The martyrs with their palms aloft… But hearing still, in middle song,