Two pretty rills do meet, and meeting make Within one valley a large silver lake: About whose banks the fertile mountains stood In ages pass'd bravely crowned with wood,...
I Bring you with reverent hands The books of my numberless dreams, White woman that passion has worn As the tide wears the dove-grey sands, And with heart more old than the horn...
"Son of my buried Son, while thus thy hand" "Is clasping mine, it saddens me to think" "How Want may press thee down, and with thee sink" "Thy children left unfit, through vain demand"...
A poor torn heart, a tattered heart, That sat it down to rest, Nor noticed that the ebbing day Flowed silver to the west, Nor noticed night did soft descend Nor constellation burn,...
God grant a blessing on this tower and cottage And on my heirs, if all remain unspoiled, No table or chair or stool not simple enough For shepherd lads in Galilee; and grant...
To-day the world is wide and fair With sunny fields of lucid air, And waters dancing everywhere; The snow is almost gone; The noon is builded high with light, And over heaven's liquid height,...
Lad, and can you rest now, There beneath your hill! Your hands are on your breast now, But is your heart so still? 'Twas the right death to die, lad, A gift without regret,...
As when that hero, who, in each campaign, Had braved the Goth, and many a Vandal slain, Lay fortune-struck, a spectacle of woe! Wept by each friend, forgiven by every foe:...
I loathed you, Spoon River. I tried to rise above you, I was ashamed of you. I despised you As the place of my nativity. And there in Rome, among the artists, Speaking Italian, speaking French,...
Those hearts of ours -- how strange! how strange! How they yearn to ramble and love to range Down through the vales of the years long gone, Up through the future that fast rolls on. ...
Of their great names I may record but few; He who beholds the Ocean white with sails And copies each confuses all the view, He paints too much - and fails.
At last our Fathers saw the Treaty sealed, Victory unhelmed her broad, majestic brow, The Sword became a Sickle in the field, The war horse drew the plough. ...