#AmericanWriters
Deep-hearted roses of the purple d… And lilies of the morn; And cactus, holding up a slender t… Of fragrance on a thorn; All heavy flowers, sultry with the…
FEBRILE perfumes as of faded ro… In the old house speak of love to-… Love long past; and where the soft… Down the west gleams, golden-red,… Pointing where departed splendor p…
There is no rhyme that is half so… As the song of the wind in the rip… There is no metre that’s half so f… As the lilt of the brook under roc… And the loveliest lyric I ever he…
I Heard the hylas in the bottomla… Piping a reed-note in the praise o… The South-wind brought the music… As 't were a hundred strands Of guttural gold smitten of elfin…
Across the world she sends me word… From gardens fair as Falerina’s, Now by a blossom, now a bird, To come to her, who long has lured With magic sweeter than Alcina’s.
THERE is a smell of roses in the… Tea-roses, dead of bloom; An invalid, she sits there in the… And contemplates her doom. The pattern of the paper, and the…
Noera, when sad Fall Has grayed the fallow; Leaf-cramped the wood-brook’s braw… In pool and shallow; When, by the woodside, tall
Into the sunset’s turquoise marge The moon dips, like a pearly barge Enchantment sails through magic se… To faeryland Hesperides, Over the hills and away.
White clouds, like thistledown at… That drift through heaven’s azure… The sun beams down; the weedy grou… Vibrates with many an insect sound… Blackberry-lilies in the noon
At the moon’s down-going let it be On the quarry hill with its one gn… The red-rock road of the underbrus… Where the woman came through the s… The sumac high and the elder thick…
Heaped in raven loops and masses Over temples smooth and fair, Have you marked it, as she passes, Gleam and shadow mingled there, Braided strands of midnight air,
I Have not seen her face, and yet She is more sweet than any thing Of Earth than rose or violet That Mayday winds and sunbeams br… Of all we know, past or to come,
Whether it be that we in letters t… The pure exactness of a wood bird’… And name it song; or with the brus… The high perfection of a wildflowe… Or mold in difficult marble all th…
The bitter-sweet and red-haw in he… And in her hair pale berries of th… She haunts the coves and every Ca… The Indian, Autumn, wandered from… Beside the sea, upon a rock, she s…
Yea, why I love thee let my heart… I look upon thy face and then divi… How men could die for beauty, such… Deeming it sweet To lay my life and manhood at thy…