I have been one acquainted with the night.I have walked out in rain, and back in rain.I have outwalked the furthest city light.I have looked down the saddest city lane.I have passed by the watchman on ... [+]
I have been one acquainted with the night.I have walked out in rain, and back in rain.I have outwalked the furthest city light.I have looked down the saddest city lane.I have passed by the watchman on ... [+]
He saw her from the bottom of the stairsBefore she saw him. She was starting down,Looking back over her shoulder at some fear.She took a doubtful step and then undid itTo raise herself and look again ... [+]
The land was ours before we were the land's.She was our land more than a hundred yearsBefore we were her people. She was oursIn Massachusetts, in Virginia,But we were England's, still ... [+]
When I was sick and lay a-bed, I had two pillows at my head, And all my toys beside me lay To keep me happy all the day. And sometimes for an hour or so I watched my leaden soldiers go, With ... [+]
I. The City Child. Dainty little maiden, whither would you wander?Whither from this pretty home, the home where mother dwells?‘Far and far away,’ said the dainty little maiden,‘All among the ... [+]
Queen of my tub, I merrily sing, While the white foam rises high, And sturdily wash, and rinse, and wring, And fasten the clothes to dry; Then out in the free fresh air they swing, Under the ... [+]
Under a spreading chestnut-treeThe village smithy stands;The smith, a mighty man is he,With large and sinewy hands;And the muscles of his brawny armsAre strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and ... [+]
The morns are meeker than they were,The nuts are getting brown;The berry's cheek is plumper,The rose is out of town. The maple wears a gayer scarf,The field a scarlet gown.Lest I should be ... [+]
Oft, in the silence of the night, When the lonely moon rides high, When wintry winds are whistling, And we hear the owl's shrill cry, In the quiet, dusky chamber, By the flickering firelight, Rising ... [+]
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop ... [+]
The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued ... [+]
O beautiful for spacious skies, For amber waves of grain, For purple mountain majesties Above the fruited plain! America! America! God shed His grace on thee And crown thy good with brotherhood From ... [+]