#Americans #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Squaw-Berry, bramble, Solomon’s-s… And rattlesnake-weed make wild the… You seem to feel that a Faun will… Or leap before your face. . . . Is that the reel of a Satyr’s hee…
What will you send her, What will you tell her, That shall unbend her, That shall compel her? Love, that shall fold her
From hill and hollow, side by side… The shadows came, like dreams, to… And watch, mysterious, sunset-eyed… The wool-winged moths and bats afl… And the lone owl that cried and cr…
NIGHT, they say, is no man’s fri… And at night he met his end In the woods of Trebizend. Hate crouched near him as he strod… Through the blackness of the road,
There is no rhyme that is half so… As the song of the wind in the rip… There is no metre that’s half so f… As the lilt of the brook under roc… And the loveliest lyric I ever he…
O voice of ecstasy and lyric pain, Divinely throated and divinely hea… Among old England’s songsters! Sp… Haunting the woods of song with ra… In whose wild music Love is born…
The grasshopper, that sang its sle… All summer long, The orchard lands and harvest fiel… Taking no heed of aught save its o… Without alloy,
BEFORE the rain, low in the obs… Weak and morose the moon hung, sic… Around its disc the storm mists, c… Wove an enormous web, wherein it l… Like some white spider hungry for…
Made a face of biscuit-dough, Which our black cook gave me once; And this girl named So-and-So Said ‘t was funnier than a dunce. And she took it; put it on
O Dark-Eyed goddess of the marble… Whose look is silence and whose to… Who walkest lonely through the wor… Who sittest lonely with Life’s bl… Who in the hollow hours of night’s…
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…
High as a star, yet lowly as a flo… Unknown she takes her unassuming p… At Earth’s proud masquerade-the a… Strikes, and, behold, the marvel o…
The cuckoo-sorrel paints with pink The green page of the meadow-land Around a pool where thrushes drink As from a hollowed hand. A hill, long-haired with leathered…
Not they the great Who build authority around a Stat… And firm on calumny and party hate Base their ambition. Nor the grea… Who with disturbance make their wa…
The night is sad with silver and t… And the woodland silence listens t… Of the Lady of the Fountain, whom… With her limbs of samite whiteness… Whom the boyish South Wind seeks…
