#Americans
I found myself among the trees What time the reapers ceased to re… And in the sunflower-blooms the be… Huddled brown heads and went to sl… Rocked by the balsam-breathing bre…
They are the wise who look before, Nor fear to look behind; Who in the darkness still ignore Pale shadows of the mind. Who, having lost, though loss be m…
BLACK clouds hung low and heavy, Above the sunset glare; And in the garden dimly We wandered here and there. So full of strife, of trouble
Here is a tale for any one who wis… There grew a cabbage once among th… A plain, broad cabbage a good wenc… Were kitchen-busy with plebeian di… The rose and lily, toilless, witho…
Between the rose’s and the canna’s… Beneath her window in the night I… The jeweled dew hangs little stars… The white moonflowers each a spiri… That points the path to mystic sha…
Miranda-like, above the world she… The wand of Prospero; and, beauti… Ariel the airy, Caliban the dull, Lightning and steam, are her unwil…
John-A-Dreams and Harum-Scarum Came a-riding into town: At the Sign o’ the Jug-and-Jorum There they met with Low-lie-down. Brave in shoes of Romany leather,
Let down the bars; drive in the co… The west is barred with burning ro… Unhitch the horses from the plough… And from the cart the ox that lows… And light the lamp within the hous…
They’ve torn the old house down, t… Like some kind mother, in this pla… Hugged by its orchard and its wood… Two sturdy children, strong of rac… This formal place makes no appeal.
I climbed a forest path and found A dim cave in the dripping ground, Where dwelt the spirit of cool sou… Who wrought with crystal triangles… And hollowed foam of rippled bells…
Secluded, solitary on some underbo… Or cradled in a leaf, 'mid glimmer… Like Puck thou crouchest: Haply w… The slow toadstool comes bulging,… Through loosening loam; or how, ag…
There is a place I search for sti… Sequestered as the world of dreams… A bushy hollow, and a hill That whispers with descending stre… Cool, careless waters, wandering d…
An agate-black, your roguish eyes Claim no proud lineage of the skie… No starry blue; but of good earth The reckless witchery and mirth. Looped in your raven hair’s repose…
There is no rhyme that is half so… As the song of the wind in the rip… There is no metre that’s half so f… As the lilt of the brook under roc… And the loveliest lyric I ever he…
The hat he wore was full of holes, And his battered shoes were worn t… His shirt was a rag, held together… And his trousers patched with outs… A negro tramp, a roustabout,