#AmericanWriters #FemaleWriters
Brighter shone the golden shadows; On the cool wind softly came The low, sweet tones of happy flow… Singing little Violet’s name. ‘Mong the green trees was it whisp…
‘I write about the butterfly, It is a pretty thing; And flies about like the birds, But it does not sing. ’First it is a little grub,
From our happy home Through the world we roam One week in all the year, Making winter spring With the joy we bring,
Mysterious death! who in a single… Life’s gold can so refine And by thy art divine Change mortal weakness to immortal… Bending beneath the weight of eigh…
I am the monarch of the Sea, The ruler of the Queen’s Navee,— When at anchor here I ride, My bosom swells with pride, And I snap my fingers at a foeman…
O lesson well and wisely taught Stay with me to the last, That all my life may better be For the trial that is past. O vanity, mislead no more!
From our happy home Through the world we roam One week in all the year, Making winter spring With the joy we bring
‘J’avais une colombe blanche, J’avais un blanc petit pigeon, Tous deux volaient, de branche en… Jusqu’au faîte de mon dongeon: Mais comme un coup de vent d’autom…
‘Dear Grif, Here is a whiff Of beautiful spring flowers; The big red rose Is for your nose,
‘A little bird I am, Shut from the fields of air, And in my cage I sit and sing To Him who placed me there: Well pleased a prisoner to be,
‘For myself alone, I would not be Ambitious in my wish; but, for you… I would be trebled twenty times my… A thousand times more fair, Ten thousand times more rich.’
We are sending you, dear flowers Forth alone to die, Where your gentle sisters may not… O’er the cold graves where you lie… But you go to bring them fadeless…
‘Beds to the front of them, Beds to the right of them, Beds to the left of them, Nobody blundered. Beamed at by hungry souls,
Long ago in a poultry yard One dull November morn, Beneath a motherly soft wing A little goose was born. Who straightway peeped out of the…
