#Americans #Women
They whisper at my very gate, These clacking gossips every one, ‘We saw them in the wood of late, Her and the widow’s son; The horses at the forge may wait,
A great king made a feast for Lov… And golden was the board and gold The hundred, wondrous gauds thereo… Soft lights like roses fell above Rare dishes exquisite and fine;
I said I will go back again where… Were glad together. But my dear,… Where are the roses we were wont t… The songs we used to hear? I said the hearth-flame that once…
My life has been like a bee that r… Through a scented garden close, And ’tis I who have kept the hone… The hoarded sweetness and scent th… For all I forget the rose.
I must be off where the green boug… Why should I linger to barter and… The mart may pay me’the mart may… I have had enough of the huckster’… The calm of the deep woods waits t…
My father took me by the hand And led me home again; (He brought me in from sorrow As you’d bring a child from rain). The child’s place at the hearth-st…
The gypsies passed her little gate… She stopped her wheel to see,— A brown-faced pair who walked the… Free as the wind is free; And suddenly her tidy room
He made him a love o’ dreams— He raised for his heart’s delight— (As the heart of June a crescent… A frail, fair spirit of light. He gave her the gift of joy—
My poplars are like ladies trim, Each conscious of her own estate; In costume somewhat over prim, In manner cordially sedate, Like two old neighbours met to cha…
Orchards in the Spring-time! Oh,… Filmy mists of pink and white abov… Lifting and drifting,—how my eyes… I’m staring at a dirty wall beyond… Orchards in the Spring-time! Deep…
It was not then her heart broke’ That moment when she knew That all her faith held holiest Was utterly untrue. It was not then her heart broke’
White rose-leaves in my hands, I toss you all away; The winds shall blow you through t… To seek my wedding day. Or East you go, or West you go
I lost Young Love so long ago I had forgot him quite, Until a little lass and lad Went by my door to-night. Ah, hand in hand, but not alone,
We who in the old days—the easy da… Loitered in the distant lands—we k… When in far, foreign places, above… The sight of it, the might of it,… Our own flag, the one flag, it sti…
The little dream she had forgot Oh, long and long ago, Came back across the April fields And touched her garment so (As might a wind-blown primrose cl…