#AmericanWriters
Old November, sere and brown, Clothes the country, haunts the to… Sheds its cloak of withered leaves… Brings its sighing, soughing breez… Prophet of the dying year,
I would not tarry if I could be g… Adown the path where calls my eage… That fate which knows naught but t… Holds me within its grasp, a helpl… And checks my steps when I would…
And Thou art One—One with th’ et… And with the flaming stars, and wi… Translucent, cold. The sentinel o… That clothes the sky in robes of l… The earth with warmth, the floweri…
A thousand years of darkness in he… She turns at last from out the cen… Of labored moan and dull oppressio… To slowly mount the rugged path an… Her measured step unto her ancient…
From your life’s blood to coin a t… The past, the present and the futu… To hold—and weave it to a ringing… That sounds within the changing he…
Day passeth day in sunshine or sha… Night unto night each cycle is tol… Sun, moon and stars in whirling an… All unto all the creation unfold. What of the strivings, what of the…
I have found joy, Surcease from sorrow, From qualms for today And fears for tomorrow. I have found love,
O, Little David, play on your har… That ivory harp with the golden st… And sing as you did in Jewry Land… Of the Prince of Peace and the G… And the coming Christ Immanuel.
Forget? Ah, never! Your eyes, your voice, your lips. Those little ways of love, Half-childish yet all-wise
Out of the silence I come to you, Bringing a love Free as the dew. I come and sing
Peace to his ashes! I cannot for the soul of me Sorrowing bow, Tho I search through the heart of… Grieve for him now.
There is naught in the pathless re… Of the pale, blue sky above, There is naught that the stars tel… As over the heavens they rove; That I have not felt, or have not…
The slender moon in its silvery sh… The golden stars with the blue bet… Of a dreamy, summer sky; And still the night winds sigh. With the silvery moon to whisper t…
Now with the dust that bore him he… Silent, into into earth’s silent m… Dimmed is his light, as with the s… He folds his steps unto the God w… When shall the weak stand and rejo…
I know not why or whence he came Or how he chanced to go; I only know he brought me love, And going, left me woe. I do not ask that he turn back