That boy I took in the car last night, With the body that awfully sagged away, And the lips blood-crisped, and the eyes flame-bright, And the poor hands folded and cold as clay -...
When roads are mired with ice and snow, And the air of morn is crisp with rime; When the holly hangs by the mistletoe, And bells ring in the CHRISTMAS time: - It's - Saddle, my Heart, and ride away,...
That love last long, let it thy first care be To find a wife that is most fit for thee. Be she too wealthy or too poor, be sure Love in extremes can never long endure.
Some drink to Friendship, some to Love, Through whom the world is fair, perdie! But I to one these others prove, Who leaps 'mid lions for a glove, Or dies to set another free...
When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud And goes down burning into the gulf below, No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud At what has happened. Birds, at least must know...
Yea, she hath looked Truth grimly face to face, And drained unto the lees the proffered cup. This silence is not patience, nor the grace Of recognition, meekly offered up,...
You are no longer young, Nor are you very old. There are homes where those belong. You know you do not fit When you observe the cold Stares of those who sit
One evening while reclining In my easy-chair, repining O'er the lack of true religion, and the dearth of common sense, A solemn visaged lady, Who was surely on the shady...
That painter has not with a careless smutch Accomplished his despair?--one touch revealing All he had put of life, thought, vigor, feeling, Into the canvas that without that touch...
Hold to the rapture: let it work Inward till founts of being fill, And all is clear that once was murk, And Beauty's self rise, mirrored still, Before the mind, that shall devise...
When moiling seems at cease In the vague void of night-time, And heaven's wide roomage stormless Between the dusk and light-time, And fear at last is formless, We call the allurement Peace....
Folks ain't got no right to censuah othah folks about dey habits; Him dat giv' de squir'ls de bushtails made de bobtails fu' de rabbits. Him dat built de gread big mountains hollered out de little valleys,...
Let it not your wonder move, Less your laughter, that I love. Though I now write fifty years, I have had, and have, my peers; Poets, though divine, are men, Some have lov'd as old again....
See the chariot at hand here of Love, Wherein my lady rideth! Each that draws is a swan or a dove, And well the car Love guideth. As she goes, all hearts do duty Unto her beauty;...
Oh, hadst thou fall'n, brave youth! on that proud day,[1] When our victorious fleet o'er the red surge Rolled in terrific glory, thou hadst fall'n Most honoured; and Remembrance, while she thought...
Parable as metaphor - profile in hard glint of light, buckskin garb merging from shadow & buckboards - sandwiching of memory being elbowed thru a Deadwood City saloon door. ...