The Road Not Taken
by Robert FrostTwo roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back.
Because I Could Not Stop for Death
by Emily DickinsonBecause I could not stop for Death – He kindly stopped for me – The Carriage held but just Ourselves – And Immortality. We slowly drove – he knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too, For His Civility – We passed the School, where Children strove At Recess – in the Ring – We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain – We passed the Setting Sun – Or rather – He passed Us – The Dews drew quivering and Chill –
I Hear America Singing
by Walt WhitmanI hear America singing, the varied carols I hear; Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be, blithe and strong; The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam; The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off work; The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat—the deckhand singing on the steamboat deck; The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench—the hatter singing as he stands;
Hope is the thing with feathers
by Emily DickinsonHope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all, and sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I’ve heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.
Let America Be America Again
by Langston HughesLet America be America again. Let it be the dream it used to be. Let it be the pioneer on the plain Seeking a home where he himself is free. (America never was America to me.) Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed— Let it be that great strong land of love Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme That any man be held in chains. (America never was America to me.)
To a Daughter Leaving Home
by Linda Pastan
When I taught you at eight to ride a bicycle, I warned you to keep your eyes on the road ahead, but you looked back at me, and I waved. I had to let you go, my hand still waving, my heart an open hand, the shadow of my arm stretching behind you like a long ribbon through the trees.
to my dear and loving husband
by Anne BradstreetIf ever two were one, then surely we. If ever man were loved by wife, then thee; If ever wife was happy in a man, Compare with me, ye women, if you can. I prize thy love more than whole mines of gold Or all the riches that the East doth hold. My love is such that rivers cannot quench, Nor ought but love from thee give recompense. Thy love is such I can no way repay; The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray. Then while we live, in love let’s so persevere That when we live no more, we may live ever.
On Being Brought from Africa to America
by Phillis Wheatley‘Twas mercy brought me from my Pagan land, Taught my benighted soul to understand That there’s a God, that there’s a Saviour too: Once I redemption neither sought nor knew. Some view our sable race with scornful eye, “Their colour is a diabolic die.” Remember, Christians, Negroes, black as Cain, May be refin’d, and join th’ angelic train.
To His Excellency General Washington
by Phillis WheatleyCelestial choir! enthron’d in realms of light, Columbia’s scenes of glorious toils I write. While freedom’s cause her anxious breast alarms, She flashes dreadful in refulgent arms. See mother earth her offspring’s fate bemoan, And nations gaze at scenes before unknown! See the bright beams of heaven’s revolving light Involved in sorrows and the veil of night! Muse! bow propitious while my pen relates How pour her armies through a thousand gates,
Song of the Open Road
by Walt WhitmanAfoot and light-hearted I take to the open road, Healthy, free, the world before me, The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose. Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune, Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, Done with indoor complaints, libraries, querulous criticisms, Strong and content I travel the open road. The earth—that is sufficient; I do not want the constellations any nearer; I know they are very well where they are; I know they suffice for those who belong to them.
One’s-Self I Sing
by Walt Whitman’sOne’s-Self I sing, a simple separate person, Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-Masse. Of Physiology from top to toe I sing, Not physiognomy alone nor brain alone is worthy for the Muse, I say the Form complete is worthier far, The Female equally with the Male I sing. Of Life immense in passion, pulse, and power, Cheerful, for freest action form’d under the laws divine, The Modern Man I sing.
On the Beach at Night Alone
by Walt WhitmanOn the beach at night alone, As the old mother sways her to and fro, singing her husky song, As I watch the bright stars shining—I think a thought of the clef of the universes, and of the future. A vast similitude interlocks all, All distances of place however wide, All distances of time— All souls, all living bodies though they be ever so different, or in different worlds, All gaseous, watery, vegetable, mineral processes—the fishes, the brutes, All nations, colors, barbarisms, civilizations, languages,
Anne Bradstreet
Anne Bradstreet (1612–1672) was a pioneering American poet and the first woman in the American colonies to have her work published. Living in a strict Puritan society, Bradstreet’s poetry delves into personal, familial, and spiritual themes. Her writings reflect the struggles and triumphs of a female poet navigating a predominantly male-dominated literary world, offering insights into 17th-century colonial life.
Ann Eliza Bleecker
Ann Eliza Bleecker (1752–1783) was an American poet and writer whose work provides a window into the life and struggles of a colonial woman. Living through the American Revolutionary War, Bleecker’s poetry reflects themes of personal loss, social upheaval, and resilience. Her writings offer a poignant exploration of the challenges faced by women in 18th-century America.
Elizabeth Graeme Fergusson
Elizabeth Graeme Fergusson (1737–1801) was an American poet and social figure known for her contributions to early American literature. Her poetry, often infused with themes of social critique and personal reflection, offers insights into the cultural and intellectual climate of 18th-century Philadelphia. Fergusson’s work highlights her engagement with contemporary issues and her role in shaping early American literary traditions.
Louisa May Alcott
Louisa May Alcott (1832–1888) was an influential American writer and poet known for her contributions to literature during the 19th century. While best known for her novels, Alcott’s poetry also reflects her progressive views on social issues and her deep engagement with themes of domestic life and personal growth. Her work provides valuable insight into the cultural and social dynamics of her time.
Walt Whitman
Walt Whitman (1819–1892) was a pioneering American poet whose innovative use of free verse and exploration of themes related to democracy, individualism, and nature transformed 19th-century American literature. Whitman’s poetry, marked by its expansive and inclusive style, reflects his profound belief in the interconnectedness of all people and the American experience. His work remains a cornerstone of American literary tradition.
William Cullen Bryant
William Cullen Bryant (1794–1878) was a significant American poet and journalist whose work bridged the Romantic and transcendental movements. Bryant’s poetry, characterized by its lyrical beauty and engagement with themes of nature and humanism, reflects his deep appreciation for the American landscape and philosophical reflections. His contributions to literature also include his role in advancing American journalism.