#AmericanWriters
Gaddi mi fece; il Ponte Vecchio s… Cinquecent’ anni giásull’ Arno pi… Il piede, come il suo Michele San… Piantó sul draco. Mentre ch’ io r… Lo vedo torcere con flebil suono
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
Annie of Tharaw, my true love of… She is my life, and my goods, and… Annie of Tharaw, her heart once a… To me has surrendered in joy and i… Annie of Tharaw, my riches, my go…
Thus then, much care-worn, The son of Healfden Sorrowed evermore, Nor might the prudent hero His woes avert.
It was Sir Christopher Gardiner, Knight of the Holy Sepulchre, From Merry England over the sea, Who stepped upon this continent As if his august presence lent
Whene’er a noble deed is wrought, Whene’er is spoken a noble thought… Our hearts, in glad surprise, To higher levels rise. The tidal wave of deeper souls
An angel with a radiant face, Above a cradle bent to look, Seemed his own image there to trac… As in the waters of a brook. ‘Dear child! who me resemblest so,…
The sea awoke at midnight from its… And round the pebbly beaches far a… I heard the first wave of the risi… Rush onward with uninterrupted swe… A voice out of the silence of the…
Northward over Drontheim, Flew the clamorous sea-gulls, Sang the lark and linnet From the meadows green; Weeping in her chamber,
Down from yon distant mountain hei… The brooklet flows through the vil… A boy comes forth to wash his hand… Washing, yes washing, there he sta… In the water cool and sweet.
Witlaf, a king of the Saxons, Ere yet his last he breathed, To the merry monks of Croyland His drinking-horn bequeathed,— That, whenever they sat at their r…
(Canto XXIII.) Even as a bird, ‘mid the beloved l… Quiet upon the nest of her sweet b… Throughout the night, that hideth… Who, that she may behold their lon…
Olger the Dane and Desiderio, King of the Lombards, on a lofty… Stood gazing northward o’er the ro… League after league of harvests, t… Of the snow-crested Alps, and saw…
No sound of wheels or hoof-beat br… The silence of the summer day, As by the loveliest of all lakes I while the idle hours away. I pace the leafy colonnade,
THE SPIRE OF STRASBU… Night and storm. LUCIFER, with… Air, trying to tear down the Cros… _Lucifer._ HASTEN! hasten! O ye spirits!