#Americans
The Alps of the Tyrol are dark wi… Where, foaming under the mountain… The Inn’s long water sounds and s… Beyond, are peaks where the mornin… An icy rose; and the evening leave…
Lying alone I dreamed a dream las… Methought that Joy had come to co… For all the past, its suffering an… Yet in my heart I felt this could… All that he said unreal seemed and…
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 hush of death is on the night.… That loves to whisper to the wind;… That dance with it, are silent: on… No motion mid the fields, as dry a… What light is that? It cannot be…
Above her, pearl and rose the heav… Around her, flowers scattered eart… Or down the path in insolence held… Like cavaliers who ride the elves’… Scarlet and blue, within a garden…
WHEN pearl and gold, o’er deeps… The moon curves, silvering the dus… As in a garden, dreaming, A lily slips its dewy husk A firefly in its gleaming,—
The beauty of the day put joy, Unbounded, in the woodland’s breas… Through which the wind, like some… Ran on and took no rest. The little stream that made its ho…
The water-flag and wild cane grow ‘Round banks whereon the sunbeams… Fantastic gold when, on its shores… The wind sighs through the sycamor… In one green angle, just in reach,
Here is the place where Lovelines… Between the river and the wooded h… Within a valley where the Springt… Her firstling wind-flowers under b… Where Summer sits braiding her wa…
‘T was Fiddledeedee who put to se… With a rollicking buccaneer Bumbl… An acorn-cup was their hollow boat A rakish craft was their acorn-boa… And their sail a butterfly’s wing;
There’s a little fairy who Peeps from every dropp of dew: You can see him wink and shine On the morning-glory vine, Mischief in his eye of blue.
Far in the purple valleys of illus… I see her waiting, like the soul o… With deep eyes, lovelier than ceru… Shadow and fire, yet merciless as… With red lips, sweeter than Arabi…
This was her home; one mossy gable… Above the cedars and the locust tr… This was her home, whose beauty no… A lonely memory for melodies The wild birds sing, the wild bird…
In classic beauty, cold, immaculat… A voiceful sculpture, stern and st… Upon her brow deep-chiselled love… That sorrow o’er dead roses in her…
So Love is dead, the Love we knew… And in the sorrow of our hearts’ h… A lute lies broken and a flower fa… Love’s house stands empty and his… Lone in dim places, where sweet vo…
