Among the Hills (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
PRELUDEALONG the roadside, like the flowers of goldThat tawny Incas for their gardens wrought,Heavy with sunshine droops the golden-rod,And the ...
PRELUDEALONG the roadside, like the flowers of goldThat tawny Incas for their gardens wrought,Heavy with sunshine droops the golden-rod,And the ...
When smiling spring, an angel fair! Walks o'er the verdant plain,And breathes a soft and balmy air, From isles beyond the main:When ...
My thoughts are all in yonder town,Where, wept by many tears,To-day my mother's friend lays downThe burden of her years.True ...
His fingers wake, and flutter up the bed. His eyes come open with a pull of will, Helped by the ...
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