#AmericanWriters
Is this the land our fathers loved… The freedom which they toiled to w… Is this the soil whereon they move… Are these the graves they slumber… Are we the sons by whom are borne
Piero Luca, known of all the town As the gray porter by the Pitti w… Where the noon shadows of the gard… Sick and in dolor, waited to lay d… His last sad burden, and beside hi…
Talk not of sad November, when a… Of warm, glad sunshine fills the s… And a wind, borrowed from some mor… Stirs the brown grasses and the le… On the unfrosted pool the pillared…
From purest wells of English unde… None deeper drank than he, the Ne… Who in the language of their farm-… The wit and wisdom of New England… Shaming a monstrous wrong. The wo…
WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM… On page of thine I cannot trace The cold and heartless commonplace… A statue’s fixed and marble grace. For ever as these lines I penned,
HARRIET BEECHER STOWE’S… THE tall, sallow guardsmen their… Flaming out in their violet, yello… And behind go the lackeys in crims… And the chamberlains gorgeous in v…
Our fathers’ God! from out whose… The centuries fall like grains of… We meet to-day, united, free, And loyal to our land and Thee, To thank Thee for the era done,
Of A Virginia Slave Mother T… Gone, gone,—sold and gone To the rice-swamp dank and lone. Where the slave-whip ceaseless swi… Where the noisome insect stings
THROUGH the long hall the shutt… A dubious light on every upturned… On locks like those of Absalom th… On the bald apex ringed with scant… On blank indifference and on curio…
The land, that, from the rule of k… In freeing us, itself made free, Our Old World Sister, to us brin… Her sculptured Dream of Liberty, Unlike the shapes on Egypt’s sand…
They tell me, Lucy, thou art dead… That all of thee we loved and cher… Has with thy summer roses perished… And left, as its young beauty fled… An ashen memory in its stead,
GOD bless New Hampshire! from he… Once more the voice of Stark and… The long-bound vassal of the exult… For very shame her self-forged cha… Turn the black seal of slavery fro…
Dream not, O Soul, that easy is t… Thus set before thee. If it prove… As well it may, beyond thy natural… Faint not, despair not. As a chil… A father, pray the Everlasting Go…
BEAR him, comrades, to his grave… Never over one more brave Shall the prairie grasses weep, In the ages yet to come, When the millions in our room,
A sound as if from bells of silver… Or elfin cymbals smitten clear, Through the frost-pictured panes… A brightness which outshines the m… A splendor brooking no delay,