#Americans
Pale as a star that shines through… Her face was seen at the window-pa… Her sad, frail face that watched i… The face of a girl whose brow was… To whom the kind sun spoke at dawn…
Summer may come, in sun-blonde spl… To reap the harvest that Springti… And Fall lead in her old defender… Winter, all huddled up in snows: Ever a-south the love-wind blows
The acorn-oak Sullens to sombre crimson all its… And where it hugely heaves A giant head dark as congested blo… The gum-tree towers, against the s…
Sad-Hearted spirit of the solitud… Who comest through the ruin-wedded… Gray-gowned with fog, gold-girdled… Of tawny twilights; burdened with… Of rain-wet uplands, chilly with t…
The hot sunflowers by the glaring… Lift shields of sultry brass; the… Pink-thorned, advance with bristli… Against the furious sunlight. Fie… Are sick with summer: now, with br…
A mile of moonlight and the whispe… A mile of shadow and the odorous l… One large, white star above the so… Like one sweet wish: and, laughter… Wild-roses wistful in a web of rai…
I had the strangest dream last nig… I dreamed the poppies, red and whi… That over-run the flower-bed, Changed to wee women, white and re… Who, jeweled with the twinkling we…
Whether it be that we in letters t… The pure exactness of a wood bird’… And name it song; or with the brus… The high perfection of a wildflowe… Or mold in difficult marble all th…
A disc of violet blue, Rimmed with a thorn of fire, The new moon hangs in a sky of dew… And under the vines, where the sun… Is blent with blossoms, first one,…
She took her babe, the child of sh… And wrapped it warmly in her shawl… From house to house for work. Pro… A look of wonder on her; raised a… Of Christian outrage. None would…
Wild son of Heav’n, with laughter… Now East, now West, now North, n… Bearing in one harsh hand dark dea… And in the other, sunshine and a r…
Ah, shall I follow, on the hills, The Spring, as wild wings follow? Where wild-plum trees make wan the… Crabapple trees the hollow, Haunts of the bee and swallow?
I Have not seen her face, and yet She is more sweet than any thing Of Earth than rose or violet That Mayday winds and sunbeams br… Of all we know, past or to come,
Dull, dimly gleaming, The dawn looks downward Where, flowing townward, The river, steaming With mist, is hidden:
On the barren hillside lone he sat… On his head he wore a tattered hat… In his hand he bore a crooked staf… Never heard I laughter like his l… On the barren hillside, thistle-ho…
