#AmericanWriters #Epigram
Where, from the eye of day, The dark and silent river Pursues through tangled woods a wa… O’er which the tall trees quiver; The silver mist, that breaks
DEVEREUX FARM, NEAR M… We sat within the farm-house old, Whose windows, looking o’er the ba… Gave to the sea-breeze damp and co… An easy entrance, night and day.
THE WORKSHOP OF HEPHAES… HEPHAESTUS (standing before t… Not fashioned out of gold, like H… Nor forged of iron like the thunde… Of Zeus omnipotent, or other work…
THIS is the forest primeval. The… Bearded with moss, and in garments… Stand like Druids of eld, with vo… Stand like harpers hoar, with bear… Loud from its rocky caverns, the d…
NEAR to the bank of the river, o… Garlands of Spanish moss and of m… Such as the Druids cut down with… Stood, secluded and still, the hou… Girdled it round about with a belt…
IN the Acadian land, on the shore… Distant, secluded, still, the litt… Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast… Giving the village its name, and p… Dikes, that the hands of the farme…
Yes, the Year is growing old, And his eye is pale and bleared! Death, with frosty hand and cold, Plucks the old man by the beard, Sorely, sorely!
I stand again on the familiar shor… And hear the waves of the distract… Piteously calling and lamenting th… And waiting restless at thy cottag… The rocks, the sea—weed on the oce…
It was fifty years ago In the pleasant month of May, In the beautiful Pays de Vaud, A child in its cradle lay. And Nature, the old nurse, took
In the market-place of Bruges sta… Thrice consumed and thrice rebuild… town. As the summer morn was breaking, o… And the world threw off the darkne…
Until we meet again! That is the… Of the familiar words, that men re… At parting in the street. Ah yes, till then! but when death… Rends us asunder, with what ceasel…
And now along the horizon’s edge Mountains of cloud uprose, Black as with forests underneath, Above their sharp and jagged teeth Were white as drifted snows.
Still through Egypt’s desert plac… Flows the lordly Nile, From its banks the great stone fac… Gaze with patient smile. Still the pyramids imperious
Out of the bosom of the Air Out of the cloud-folds of her garm… Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow
Simon Danz has come home again, From cruising about with his bucca… He has singed the beard of the Ki… And carried away the Dean of Jaen And sold him in Algiers.
