#AmericanWriters
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?
Why do I love you, who have never… My heart encouragement or any caus… Is it because, as earth is held of… Your soul holds mine by some myste… Perhaps, unseen of me, within your…
THE old house leans upon a tree Like some old man upon a staff: The night wind in its ancient porc… Sounds like a hollow laugh. The heaven is wrapped in flying cl…
Were I an artist, Lydia, I Would paint you as you merit, Not as my eyes, but dreams, descry… Not in the flesh, but spirit. The canvas I would paint you on
Here is a tale for prelates and fo… There was a scarecrow once, a thin… And sticks and straw, to whom men… Of weighty moment murders, thefts… None saw he was a scarecrow. Ever…
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…
About the time when bluebells swin… Their elfin belfries for the bee And in the fragrant House of Spri… Wild Music moves; and Fantasy Sits weaving webs of witchery:
A barren field o’ergrown with thor… It stays for him who waits for hel… Only the soul that makes a plough… Shall know what blossoms underneat…
Old homes among the hills! I love… Their old rock fences, that our da… Their doors, round which the great… Their paths, down which the shadow… Broad doors and paths that reach b…
She comes, the dreamy daughter Of day and night, a girl, Who o’er the western water Lifts up her moon of pearl: Like some Rebecca at the well,
Loss molds our lives in many ways, And fills our souls with guesses; Upon our hearts sad hands it lays Like some grave priest that blesse… Far better than the love we win,
How long had I sat there and had… The gleam of the glow-worm till so… The heaven was starless, the fores… And the vistas of darkness stretch… And late ‘mid the trees had I lin…
This is the truth as I see it, my… Out in the wind and the rain: They who have nothing have little… Nothing to lose or to gain. Here by the road at the end o’ the…
Thou sit’st among the sunny silenc… Of terraced hills and woodland gal… Thou utterance of all calm melodie… Thou lutanist of Earth’s most aff… Where no false note intrudes
There is a music of immaculate lov… That beats within the virgin veins… And trillium blossoms, like the st… To fairies’ wands; and, strung on… White-hearts and mandrake blooms t…