William Dean Howells

(1837-1920 / United States)

William Dean Howells Poems

1. The Song The Oriole Sings 4/16/2010
2. What Shall It Profit? 4/16/2010
3. The Two Wives 4/16/2010
4. The Passengers Of A Retarded Submersible 4/16/2010
5. In Earliest Spring 4/16/2010
6. Caprice 4/16/2010
7. Change 4/16/2010
8. Vision 4/16/2010
9. Judgment Day 4/16/2010
10. Living 4/16/2010
11. Tomorrow 4/16/2010
12. Hope 4/16/2010
13. If 4/16/2010
14. From Generation To Generation 4/16/2010
15. The Bewildered Guest 4/16/2010
16. Earliest Spring 1/4/2003
17. Friends And Foes 4/16/2010
18. Dead 4/16/2010

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Best Poem of William Dean Howells

Dead

SOMETHING lies in the room
Over against my own;
The windows are lit with a ghastly bloom
Of candles, burning alone,
Untrimmed, and all aflare
In the ghastly silence there!

People go by the door,
Tiptoe, holding their breath,
And hush the talk that they held before,
Lest they should waken Death,
That is awake all night
There in the candlelight!

Read the full of Dead

Caprice

SHE hung the cage at the window;
'If he goes by,' she said,
'He will hear my robin singing,
And when he lifts his head,
I shall be sitting here to sew,
And he will bow to me, I know.'

The robin sang a love-sweet song,
The young man raised his head;

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