#AmericanWriters
From the hills and far away All the long, warm summer day Comes the wind and seems to say: ‘Come, oh, come! and let us go Where the meadows bend and blow,
The spring is coming! hear it blow… The rain and wind have cleared the… And I am going to play my fill With sunlight on the windy hill. And I am going to laugh and run,
The tufted gold of the sassafras, And the gold of the spicewood-bush… Bewilder the ways of the forest pa… And brighten the underbrush: The white-starred drifts of the wi…
Again the earth, miraculous with… Unfolds its vernal arras. Yestery… We strolled together 'neath the gr… And heard the robin tune its flute… And watched above the white cloud…
A Tortured tree in a huddled holl… On whose gnarled boughs three leav… A strip of path that the hunters f… That leads to fields of the wind’s… And a rain-washed hill with the wi…
A LITTLE child, one night, awok… ‘Oh, help me, father! there is som… Before me! help me!’ Hurrying to… I answered, ‘I am here. You dream… ‘A dream?—’ he questioned. ‘Oh, I…
‘ Succinctae sacra Dianae ’.-OVID There the ragged sunlight lay Tawny on thick ferns and gray
I took the road again last night On which my boyhood’s hills look d… The old road leading from the town… The village there below the height… Its cottage homes, all huddled bro…
Meseemed that while she played, wh… Her fingers fell, as roses bloom b… I listened dead within a mighty ro… Of some old palace where great cas… Gaunt moonlight in, that glimpsed…
He makes a roadway of the crumblin… Or on the fallen tree,-brown as a… Fall stripes with russet,-gambols… Green twilight of the woods. We s… He comes, nor whither (in a time s…
Bald, with old eyes a blood-shot b… Into the Boar’s-Head Inn: the ho… His fulvous face, and all his raim… Of all the stews and all the East… Upon the battered board again he d…
The flute, whence Summer’s dreamy… Drew music, ripening the pinched k… The burly chestnut and the chinqua… Red-rounding-out the oval haws and… Now Winter crushes to his stormy…
Above the circus of the world she… Beautiful and base, a harlot crown… Fierce nations, upon whom she snee… Shrieked at her feet and for her p…
Oh, the morning meads, the dewy me… Where he ploughs and harrows and s… Singing a song of manly deeds, In the blossoming springtime weath… The heart in his bosom as high as…
She was strange as the orchids tha… And glimmer and shower their balm And bloom on the tropical ocean, That crystals round islands of pal… And she sang to and beckoned and b…