#AmericanWriters
Summer may come, in sun-blonde spl… To reap the harvest that Springti… And Fall lead in her old defender… Winter, all huddled up in snows: Ever a-south the love-wind blows
Deep in a valley, green with ancie… And wandered through of one small,… Whose bear-grassed banks bristled… Tick-trefoil and the thorny marigo… Bush-clover and the wahoo, hung wi…
My soul goes out to her who says, ‘Come, follow me and cast off care… Then tosses back her sun-bright ha… And like a flower before me sways Between the green leaves and my ga…
THE gentian and the bluebell so Can change my calendar, I know not how the year may go, Or what the seasons are: The months, in some mysterious wis…
At midnight in the trysting wood I wandered by the waterside, When, soft as mist, before me stoo… My sweetheart who had died. But so unchanged was she, meseemed
September On Cape Ann The partridge-berry flecks with fl… That leads to ferny hollows where… Drones on the aster. Far away the… Points its deep sapphire with a gl…
I dream again I 'm in the lane That leads me home through night a… Again the fence I see and, dense, The garden, wet and sweet of sense… Then mother’s window, with its sta…
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…
Each form of beauty’s but the new… Of thoughts more beautiful than fo… Sceptics, who search with unanoint… Never the Earth’s wild fairy-danc…
They who take courage from their o… Are victors too, no matter how muc…
Three miles of trees it is: and I Came through the woods that waited… For the cool summer dusk to come; And lingered there to watch the sk… Up which the gradual splendor clom…
I saw the spirit of the pines that… With spirits of the ocean and the… Against the tumult rose its tatter… Wild rain and darkness round it li… Fearful it stood, limbed like some…
Friend, for the sake of loves we h… The love of books, of paintings, r… And for the sake of that divine af… The love of art, passing the love… By which all life’s made nobler, s…
You, who are four years old; You, with the eyes of blue; You with the age of gold Young in the heart of you, Boy with the eyes of blue:
He stands above all worldly schism… And, gazing over life’s abysm Beholds within the starry range Of heaven laws of death and change… That, through his soul’s prophetic…