#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
When down the west the new moon sl… A curved canoe that dipped and tip… When from the rose the dewdropp dr… As if it shed its heart’s blood sl… As softly silent as a star
Hope on, dear Heart, and you will… The walls of worry fade and flee; And sane of soul and sound of mind… You ‘ll go your way of life and fi… The paths, once barren, suddenly
Here is a tale for workmen and the… There was a torrent once that down… Flashed its resistless way; a foam… Basaltic-built, ‘twixt cataract-he… Down from its eagle eyrie nearer,…
Briar and fennel and chinquapin, And rue and ragweed everywhere; The field seemed sick as a soul wi… Or dead of an old despair, Born of an ancient care.
Topsy Turvy is her name; She’s a curiosity: Never sees the world the same As it seems to you and me. ‘All the world is upside down,’
I Thought of the road through the… With its hawk’s nest high in the p… With its rock, where the fox had h… ‘Mid tangles of sumach and vine, Where she swore to be mine.
Dark, drear, and drizzly, with vap… The day goes dully unto its close; Its wet robe smutches each thing i… Its fingers sully and wreck the ro… Around the railing and garden-pali…
Like some gaunt ghost the tempest… Outside my door; its icy nails Beat on the pane: and Night and S… Around the house, with furious fla… Of wind, from which the slant slee…
Not into these dark cities, These sordid marts and streets, That the sun in his rising pities, And the moon with sorrow greets, Does she, with her dreams and flow…
Summer evenings, when it’s warm, In the yard we sit and swing: And it’s better than a farm, Watching how the fireflies swarm, Listening to the crickets sing,
‘We have the receipt of fern seed:… —HENRY IV And we have met but twice or thric… Three times enough to make me love… I praised your hair once; then you…
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,
Ah me! I shall not waken soon From dreams of such divinity! A spirit singing 'neath the moon To me. Wild sea-spray driven of the storm
Dull, dimly gleaming, The dawn looks downward Where, flowing townward, The river, steaming With mist, is hidden:
Under an oak-tree in a woodland, w… The dreaming Spring had dropped i… I found a flower, through which I… Beyond the world and see what no m… Behold and live the myths of bygon…
