#AmericanWriters
Corn-colored clouds upon a sky of… And 'mid their sheaves,-where, lik… Left by the reapers to the gatheri… The star of twilight glows,-as Ru… Dreamed homesick 'mid the harvest…
How shall it be with them that day When God demands of Earth His pa… With them who make a god of clay And gold and put all truth away. Shall not they see the lightning-r…
THE moon, a circle of gold, O’er the crowded housetops rolled, And peeped in an attic, where, ‘Mid sordid things and bare, A sick child lay and gazed
The moth and beetle wing about The garden ways of other days; Above the hills, a fiery shout Of gold, the day dies slowly out, Like some wild blast a huntsman bl…
When the lily nods in slumber, And the roses all are sleeping; When the night hangs deep and umbe… And the stars their watch are keep… When the clematis uncloses
Here is a tale for proper men and… There was a woman once who had a d… A fair-faced wench, as stable as i… And frailer than the first spring… She did not need to work, but then…
How long we had hid there and list… Where the trees let in winks o’ th… ‘Fore their Winchesters glittered… In the gully below by the run, I never kep’ count. It wuz mornin…
In the frail hepaticas,- That the early Springtide tossed, Sapphire-like, along the ways Of the woodlands that she crossed,… I behold, with other eyes,
Awake! the dawn is on the hills! Behold, at her cool throat a rose, Blue-eyed and beautiful she goes, Leaving her steps in daffodils.- Awake! arise! and let me see
THE SONG-BIRDS? are they flo… The song-birds of the summer-time, That sang their souls into the day… And set the laughing days to rhyme… No catbird scatters through the hu…
Hey, little boy, little boy, come… Hey, little boy, little boy, Andy… Hey, little boy, little boy, can i… Your mouth is crumbed with candy?’ ‘What’s that to you? what’s that t…
I have heard the wind on a winter’… When the snow-cold moon looked ici… My window’s flickering firelight, Where the frost his witchery drew: I have heard the wind on a winter’…
The acorn-oak Sullens to sombre crimson all its… And where it hugely heaves A giant head dark as congested blo… The gum-tree towers, against the s…
Clumped in the shadow of the beech… In whose brown top the crows are l… Where, every side, great briers re… And cling like hands, the beechdro… The mossy cirque with neutral tint…
The frogs still cry, ‘Knee-deep!… Among its starlit pools, When dark the woodland lies asleep… And dusk its water cools: The fireflies round its bank of fe…
