#AmericanWriters #Epigram
Four limpid lakes,—four Naiades Or sylvan deities are these, In flowing robes of azure dressed; Four lovely handmaids, that uphold Their shining mirrors, rimmed with…
The brooklet came from the mountai… As sang the bard of old, Running with feet of silver Over the sands of gold! Far away in the briny ocean
Stay, stay at home, my heart, and… Home-keeping hearts are happiest, For those that wander they know no… Are full of trouble and full of ca… To stay at home is best.
When the dying flame of day Through the chancel shot its ray, Far the glimmering tapers shed Faint light on the cowléd head; And the censer burning swung,
Have I dreamed? or was it real, What I saw as in a vision, When to marches hymeneal In the land of the Ideal Moved my thought o’er Fields Elys…
Into the Silent Land! Ah! who shall lead us thither? Clouds in the evening sky more dar… And shattered wrecks lie thicker o… Who leads us with a gentle hand
Bell! thou soundest merrily, When the bridal party To the church doth hie! Bell! thou soundest solemnly. When, on Sabbath morning,
The course of my long life hath re… In fragile bark o’er a tempestuous… The common harbor, where must rend… Account of all the actions of the… The impassioned phantasy, that, va…
Southward with fleet of ice Sailed the corsair Death; Wild and gast blew the blast, And the east—wind was his breath. His lordly ships of ice
Into the city of Kambalu, By the road that leadeth to Ispah… At the head of his dusty caravan, Laden with treasure from realms af… Baldacca and Kelat and Kandahar,
Listen, my children, and you shall… Of the midnight ride of Paul Reve… On the eighteenth of April, in 'S… Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and…
Laugh of the mountain!—lyre of bir… Pomp of the meadow! mirror of the… The soul of April, unto whom are… The rose and jessamine, leaps wild… Although, where’er thy devious cur…
Loke sat and thought, till his dar… With joy at the deed he’d done; When Sif looked into the crystal… Her courage was wellnigh gone. For never again her soft amber hai…
When the long murmur of applause That greeted the Musician’s lay Had slowly buzzed itself away, And the long talk of Spectre Ship… That followed died upon their lips
(Tristia, Book III. Elegy X.) Should any one there in Rome reme… And, without me, my name still in… Tell him that under stars which ne… I am existing still, here in a bar…
