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 ...
IIn a nation of one hundred fine, mob-hearted, lynching, relenting, repenting millions,There are plenty of sweeping, swinging, stinging, gorgeous things ...
1I reached heaven and it was syrupy.It was oppressively sweet.Croaking substances stuck to my knees.Of all substances St. Michael was ...
Old Devil, when you come with horns and tail,With diabolic grin and crafty leer;I say, such bogey-man devices wholly failTo ...
backroad leafmold stonewall chipmunkunderbrush grapevine woodchuck shadblowwoodsmoke cowbarn honeysuckle woodpilesawhorse bucksaw outhouse wellsweepbackdoor flagstone bulkhead buttermilkcandlestick ragrug firedog brownbreadhilltop outcrop ...
Dearly beloved Countrymen and Friends, Accept the verse an half--starv'd Poet sends: Who scant of paper in these needy times, ...
In the merry month of June, In the prime time of the year; Down in yonder meadows There runs a ...
In those days the oatfields' fenced-in vats of running platinum, the yellower alloy of wheat and barley, whose end, however ...
I meet with two soldiers sometimes here in HellThe one, with a tear on the seat of hi red pantaloonsWas ...
Wolf! cried my cunning heartAt every sheep it spied,And roused the countryside."Wolf! Wolf!" — and up would startGood neighbours, bringing ...
Why should I let the toad work Squat on my life? Can't I use my wit as a pitchfork And ...
backroad leafmold stonewall chipmunk underbrush grapevine woodchuck shadblow woodsmoke cowbarn honeysuckle woodpile sawhorse bucksaw outhouse wellsweep backdoor flagstone bulkhead buttermilk ...
There were three in the meadow by the brook Gathering up windrows, piling cocks of hay, With an eye always ...
Eternally the choking steam goes up From the black pools of seething oil. . . . How merry Those little ...
I WAS born on the prairie and the milk of its wheat, the red of its clover, the eyes of ...
"Wolf!" cried my cunning heart At every sheep it spied, And roused the countryside. "Wolf! Wolf!"-and up would start Good ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories