#Americans #Women
What do they know of youth, who st… They but the singers of a golden s… Who may not guess its worth or won… Like largesse to the throng. We only,—young no longer,—old so l…
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,
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;
The three ghosts on the lonesome r… Spake each to one another, “Whence came that stain about your… No lifted hand may cover?” “From eating of forbidden fruit,
The long grief left her old’and… Came love and made her young again As though some newer, gentler Spr… Should start dead roses blossoming… Old roses that have lain full long
I saw the old sea captain in his c… Shaved till his chin was pink, and… In a broadcloth suit and varnished… (I’d seen him last with a slicker… And it happened that I went home…
For mocking on men’s faces He only sees instead The hidden, hundred traces Of tears their eyes have shed. Above their lips denying,
The burden that I bear would be n… Should I cry out against it; thou… The weary day with sound of my dis… It were my burden still. The burden that I bear may be no…
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
Below them in the twilight the qui… And warm within its holding, the o… But here within the open fields th… And, hand in hand, across them the… Below them in the village are peac…
I never climb a high hill Or gaze across the lea, But, Oh, beyond the two of them, Beyond the height and blue of them… I’m looking for the sea.
To you he gave his laughter and hi… His words that of all words were m… His glad, mad moments when the… And his wild song outshrilled the… For you that memory, but happie…
1. Melchior, Gaspar, Balthazar, Great gifts they bore and meet; White linen for His body fair And purple for His feet; And golden things—the joy of kings…
She put her wedding-gown away As tenderly as one might close, With kissing lips and finger-tips, The petals of a rose Still held for the Belovèd’s sake…
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’