#AmericanWriters
There is a little girl I know Who takes her time to come and go. If you should ask her please to hu… She tries her best then to be slow… She gives her parents lots of worr…
’Twas when the wind was blowing fr… The grey and stormy sea, I heard… And in the woods and on the ways w… And weeds were rustling brown, I caught a glimpse of face and fee…
Between the death of day and birth… By War’s red light, I met with one in trailing sorrows… Whose features had The look of Him who died to set m…
Here is a tale for gossips and cha… There lived a woman once, a straig… Whose only love was slander. Noth… Escaped her vulture eye. Like som… Her course of life pointed to Hea…
What is it now that I shall seek Where woods dip downward, in the h… A mossy nook, a ferny creek, And May among the daffodils. Or in the valley’s vistaed glow,
UPON the iron crags of War I he… In battle speak while at their fee… In gulfs of human waters, A voice, intoning, ‘Where is God?… And to my heart, in doubt, I said…
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…
All were in league to capture Lov… The rock, the stream, the tree; The very Month was leader of The whole conspiracy. It led Love where wild waters met…
Those hewers of the clouds, the W… At the four compass-points,-are ou… I hear their sandals trample on th… I hear their voices trumpet throug… Builders of storm, God’s workmen,…
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
I passed a cottage ‘twixt the town… And marked its garden, blossoming… And breathing many a scent. Awhil… Near pink and marigold. It seemed a place of prayer; of lo…
Behold the blossom-bosomed Day ag… With all the star-white Hours in… Laughs out of pearl-lights through… That, leaning on the woodland wild… A sprinkled amber with the showers…
Above lone woodland ways that led To dells the stealthy twilights tr… The west was hot geranium red; And still, and still, Along old lanes the locusts sow
Far as the eye can see the land is… And desolation sits among the ston… Looking on ruin who, from rocks li… Stares with a dead face at the dyi… Mounds, where the barberry and bay…
In heavens of riveted blue, that s… With glaucous flame, deep in the w… Stands Midas-like; or, wading on… Touches with splendor all the twil… Each cloud that, like a stepping-s…