Sarah Chauncey Woolsey

  • Emerson

    Concord
    “FARTHER horizons every year.”
    O tossing pines, which surge and wave
    Above the poet’s just made grave,
    And waken for his sleeping ear
    The music that he loved to hear,
    Through summer’s sun and winter’s chill,
    With purpose staunch and...

  • When

    If I were told that I must die to-morrow,
                That the next sun
    Which sinks should bear me past all fear and sorrow
                For any one,
    All the fight fought, all the short journey through,
                What should I do?

    I do not think...

  • Gulf Stream

    Lonely and cold and fierce I keep my way,
      Scourge of the lands, companioned by the storm,
    Tossing to heaven my frontlet, wild and gray,
      Mateless, yet conscious ever of a warm
    And brooding presence close to mine all day.

    What is this alien thing, so...

  • Helen

    The autumn seems to cry for thee,
      Best lover of the autumn days!
    Each scarlet-tipped and wine-red tree,
      Each russet branch and branch of gold,
    Gleams through its veil of shimmering haze,
      And seeks thee as they sought of old:
    For all the glory...