#AmericanWriters
To Friendship drink, and then to… And last to Loyalty! The first of these were not enough Without the last, through whom we… That Love is Love, and right enou…
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…
John-a-Dreams and Harum-Scarum Came a-riding into town: At the Sign o’ the Jug-and-Jorum There they met with Low-lie-down. Brave in shoes of Romany leather,
Dusk is thy dawn; when Eve puts o… Of gold and purple in the marbled… Thou comest forth like some embodi… Or dim conceit, a lily bud confess… Or of a rose the visible wish; tha…
Under an oak-tree in a woodland, w… The dreaming Spring had dropped i… I found a flower, through which I… Beyond the world and see what no m… Behold and live the myths of bygon…
What joy you take in making hotnes… In emphasising dulness with your b… Making monotony more monotonous! When Summer comes, and drouth hat… In all the creeks, we hear your ra…
I, who went at nightfall, came aga… On Love’s door again I knocked.… He who oft had bade me in, now wou… Silence sat within his house; barr… When the slow door opened wide thr…
I had the strangest dream last nig… I dreamed the poppies, red and whi… That over-run the flower-bed, Changed to wee women, white and re… Who, jeweled with the twinkling we…
MASTER of human harmonies, wher… And harp and violin and flute acco… Each instrument confessing you its… Within the deathless orchestra of… Albeit at times your music may sou…
Once when the park Was very dark I slipped out and went walking; And heard the trees To the summer breeze,
The wild oxalis Among the valleys Lifts up its chalice Of pink and pearl; And, balsam-breathing,
No more for him, where hills look… Shall Morning crown Her rainy brow with blossom bands!… The Morning Hours, whose rosy han… Drop wildflowers of the breaking s…
The hurl and hurry of the winds of… That tore the ash and bowed the pi… Are past and done with: winds, tha… The forests with enormous, scythe-… And from the darkening deep,
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…
When the hoot of the owl comes ove… At twelve o’clock when the night i… And pale on the pools, where the c… Glimmering gray is the light o’ th… And under the willows, where water…