#AmericanWriters
O lesson well and wisely taught Stay with me to the last, That all my life may better be For the trial that is past. O vanity, mislead no more!
‘I wish I had a quiet tomb, Beside a little rill; Where birds, and bees, and butterf… Would sing upon the hill.’
‘Hello! hello! Come down below,— It’s lovely and cool Out here in the pool; On a lily-pad float
Oft, in the silence of the night, When the lonely moon rides high, When wintry winds are whistling, And we hear the owl’s shrill cry, In the quiet, dusky chamber,
Four little chests all in a row, Dim with dust, and worn by time, All fashioned and filled, long ago… By children now in their prime. Four little keys hung side by side…
GLEAMING through the silent ch… Winter sunlight seemed to shed Golden shadows like soft blessings O’er a quiet little bed, Where a pale face lay unheeding
We mourn the loss of our little pe… And sigh o’er her hapless fate, For never more by the fire she’ll… Nor play by the old green gate. The little grave where her infant…
I am the monarch of the Sea, The ruler of the Queen’s Navee,— When at anchor here I ride, My bosom swells with pride, And I snap my fingers at a foeman…
In a quiet, pleasant meadow, Beneath a summer sky, Where green old trees their branch… And winds went singing by; Where a little brook went rippling
Little shadows, little shadows Dancing on the chamber wall, While I sit beside the hearthston… Where the red flames rise and fall… Caps and nightgowns, caps and nigh…
CHEERFUL voices by the sea-sid… Echoed through the summer air, Happy children, fresh and rosy, Sang and sported freely there, Often turning friendly glances,
Now the day is done, Now the shepherd sun Drives his white flocks from the s… Now the flowers rest On their mother’s breast,
Thistledown in prison sings: Bright shines the summer sun, Soft is the summer air; Gayly the wood-birds sing, Flowers are blooming fair.
OPPOSITE my chamber window, On the sunny roof, at play, High above the city’s tumult, Flocks of doves sit day by day. Shining necks and snowy bosoms,
‘J’avais une colombe blanche, J’avais un blanc petit pigeon, Tous deux volaient, de branche en… Jusqu’au faîte de mon dongeon: Mais comme un coup de vent d’autom…