#AmericanWriters
Well, what of it then, if your hea… Of the world’s neglect? and the sm… Of doubt, blown into your eyes, ma… And the sting of the goad, The merciless goad of scorn,
Yea, whom He loves the Lord God… With disappointments, so that this… Through suffering and failure, the… To make them worthy in that Heave… Of Love’s attainment, where they…
The summer takes its hue From something opulent as fair in… And the bright heaven is brighter… Brighter and lovelier, Arching its beautiful blue,
Inspiration. All who have toiled for Art, who’… Sat equal priests at her high Pen… Only the chrism and sacrament of f… Anointing all, inspired not all th…
There are three things of Earth That help us more Than those of heavenly birth That all implore Than Love or Faith or Hope,
There is a place hung o’er of summ… And dreamy skies wherein the gray… Where water flows, within whose la… Like silvery prisms where the sunb… The minnows twinkle; where the bel…
What is that which walks by night In flying tatters of leaves and we… When the clouds rush by like daemo… And the moon is a jack-o’-lantern… Low in the pool’s dark reeds?
ON the Heights of Great Endeavou… Where Attainment looms forever,— Toiling upward, ceasing never, Climb the fateful Centuries: Up the difficult, dark places,
There was a man rode into town one… Barefooted, hatless, and without a… It was the dead of winter. Round… Were marks of violence: bits and w… Bristled his beard and hair. From…
There are haunters of the silence,… I have sat with them and hearkened… I have shuddered from their coming… And have cursed them and have bles… At my door I see their shadows; i…
The hat he wore was full of holes, And his battered shoes were worn t… His shirt was a rag, held together… And his trousers patched with outs… A negro tramp, a roustabout,
High in the place of outraged libe… He ruled the world, an emperor and… His iron armies swept the land and… And conquered nations trembled at… By him the love that fills man’s s…
Don’t know what to do to-day. Got so many things to do I can’t do them. Want to play, But my toys are all too new I don’t like to play with them:
The bubbled blue of morning-glory… Balloon-blown foam of moonflowers,… Of clematis, through which Septem… Song-hearted, rich in realized des… Are flanked by hotter hues: by taw…
Above her, pearl and rose the heav… Around her, flowers flattered eart… Or down the path in insolence held… Like cavaliers who ride the king’s… Scarlet and buff, within a garden…