#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
THE WIND IN THE PINES WHEN winds go organing through t… On hill and headland, darkly gleam… Meseems I hear sonorous lines Of Iliads that the woods are drea…
This is the place where visions co… Dreams of the trees and flowers, g… Where the white moon and the pale… Sitting with Legend and with dim… This is the place where all the si…
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,
In some quaint Nurnberg maler-atelier Uprummaged. When and where was ne… Nor yet how he obtained it. When,… ’Twas painted-who shall say? itsel…
White roses, like a mist Upon a terraced height, And 'mid the roses, opal, moonbeam… A fountain falling white. And as the full moon flows,
The wind that breathes of columbin… And celandines that crowd the rock… That shakes the balsam of the pine… With laughter from his airy locks, Stops at my city door and knocks.
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’…
Deep-hearted roses of the purple d… And lilies of the morn; And cactus, holding up a slender t… Of fragrance on a thorn; All heavy flowers, sultry with the…
Once when it had rained all night And all day, the next day, why, In our yard, a lot of white, Dumpy toadstools grew close by Our old peach tree: some were high…
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…
There is nothing that eases my hea… As the wind that blows from the pu… ’Tis a hand of balsam whose healin… Unburdens my bosom of ills. There is nothing that causes my so…
He was a boy, sun-burned and brown… And she a girl from a neighboring… Dark were her eyes and dark her ha… And her cheeks as red as the ripe… Dainty and sweet, with a far-away
They come as couriers of Heaven:… Sonorous-sandalled with majestic a… In raiment of swift foam and wind… Blowing the trumpets of God’s wra…
What though the heart be tired, The heart, that long aspired, And one high dream desired, Beyond attainment’s scope; Beyond our grasp; above us;
The Woolworth Building ENORMOUSLY it lifts Its tower against the splendor of… Like some wild dream that drifts Before the mind, and at the will’s…
