#AmericanWriters
EVEN as the Blessed, at the fina… Shall rise up quickened, each one… Wearing again the garments of the… So, upon that celestial chariot, A hundred rose ad vocem tanti seni…
I like that ancient Saxon phrase,… The burial-ground God’s-Acre! It… It consecrates each grave within i… And breathes a benison o’er the sl… God’s-Acre! Yes, that blessed nam…
In Ocean’s wide domains, Half buried in the sands, Lie skeletons in chains, With shackled feet and hands. Beyond the fall of dews,
Safe at anchor in Drontheim bay King Olaf’s fleet assembled lay, And, striped with white and blue, Downward fluttered sail and banner… As alights the screaming lanner;
Baron Castine of St. Castine Has left his château in the Pyre… And sailed across the western seas… When he went away from his fair de… The birds were building, the woods…
Nothing the greatest artist can co… That every marble block doth not c… Within itself; and only its design The hand that follows intellect ca… The ill I flee, the good that I b…
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…
There is a Reaper, whose name is… And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a br… And the flowers that grow between. “Shall I have naught that is fair…
Short of stature, large of limb, Burly face and russet beard, All the women stared at him, When in Iceland he appeared. “Look!” they said,
Short of stature, large of limb, Burly face and russet beard, All the women stared at him, When in Iceland he appeared. ‘Look!’ they said,
I stood on the bridge at midnight, As the clocks were striking the ho… And the moon rose o’er the city, Behind the dark church—tower. I saw her bright reflection
And then the blue-eyed Norseman t… A Saga of the days of old. ‘There is,’ said he, ‘a wondrous b… Of Legends in the old Norse tongu… Of the dead kings of Norroway,—
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…
I stood upon the hills, when heave… Was glorious with the sun’s return… And woods were brightened, and sof… Went forth to kiss the sun-clad va… The clouds were far beneath me; ba…
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