#AmericanWriters
MASSACHUSETTS BAY, 1760. THE robins sang in the orchard, t… blossoms grew; Little of human sorrow the buds an… knew!
AN ALGONQUIN LEGEND. HAPPY young friends, sit by me, Under May’s blown apple-tree, While these home-birds in and out Through the blossoms flit about.
PRELUDE ALONG the roadside, like the flo… That tawny Incas for their garden… Heavy with sunshine droops the gol… And the red pennons of the cardina…
O dearest bloom the seasons know, Flowers of the Resurrection blow, Our hope and faith restore; And through the bitterness of deat… And loss and sorrow, breathe a bre…
The subtle power in perfume found Nor priest nor sibyl vainly learne… On Grecian shrine or Aztec mound No censer idly burned. That power the old-time worships k…
No bird-song floated down the hill… The tangled bank below was still; No rustle from the birchen stem, No ripple from the water’s hem. The dusk of twilight round us grew…
ACROSS the sea I heard the groa… Of nations in the intervals Of wind and wave. Their blood and… Cried out in torture, crushed by t… And sucked by priestly cannibals.
We live by Faith; but Faith is no… Of text and legend. Reason’s voic… Nature’s and Duty’s, never are at… What asks our Father of His child… Justice and mercy and humility,
Where Time the measure of his hou… By changeful bud and blossom keeps… And, like a young bride crowned wi… Fair Shiraz in her garden sleeps; Where, to her poet’s turban stone,
Stream of my fathers! sweetly stil… The sunset rays thy valley fill; Poured slantwise down the long def… Wave, wood, and spire beneath them… I see the winding Powow fold
“As the Spirits of Darkness be stronger in the dark, so Good Spirits, which be Angels of Light, are augmented not only by the Divine lightof the Sun, but also by our common Wood Fire: a...
HAVE ye heard of our hunting, o’… Through cane-brake and forest,—the… The lords of our land to this hunt… As the fox-hunter follows the soun… Hark! the cheer and the hallo! the…
WHERE are we going? where are we… Where are we going, Rubee? Lord of peoples, lord of lands, Look across these shining sands, Through the furnace of the noon,
From the Mahabharata. Heed how thou livest. Do no act b… Which from the night shall drive t… In months of sun so live that mont… Shall still be happy. Evermore re…
Who, looking backward from his man… Sees not the spectre of his misspe… And, through the shade Of funeral cypress planted thick b… Hears no reproachful whisper on th…