Potential Titles: William Dean Howells

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Humming-birds cling to the honeysuckles' hearts - William D. Howells "Bereaved"

Mourned by disconsolate crickets - William D. Howells "Clement"

Full of winy perfume and mystical yearning - William D. Howells "Clement"

An echo that answers to nothing - William D. Howells "Clement"

Strawberries under the chestnuts grow - William D. Howells "Elegy on John Butler Howells"

The shrewd and curious wind - William Dean Howells "The Empty House"

From the hollows of the walls - William Dean Howells "The Empty House"

Haunted with the ghost of home - William Dean Howells "The Empty House"

Carved from ruin upon ruin - William Dean Howells "The Faithful of the Gonzaga"

No dream of frost to the flowers - William Dean Howells "The First Cricket"

In the slender vases burning - William Dean Howells "Forlorn"

The sobs and cries of midnight storms - William Dean Howells "Forlorn"

With the clock's monotony maddened - William Dean Howells "Forlorn"

The scampering races of mice - William Dean Howells "Forlorn"

Strange noises between roof and rafter - William Dean Howells "Forlorn"

Vanishing encounter and evasion - William Dean Howells "Forlorn"

In wildest eddies and tangles - William D. Howells "In Earliest Spring"

Thwart all the hollows and angles - William D. Howells "In Earliest Spring"

Deep in the oak's chill core - William D. Howells "In Earliest Spring"

With a thousand minstrels comes the light - William D. Howells "The Long Days"

In the broken heart of the city - William Dean Howells "Louis Lebeau's Conversion"

Leaves in the breath of the whirlwind - William Dean Howells "Louis Lebeau's Conversion"

The throbbing drum of the pheasant - William Dean Howells "Louis Lebeau's Conversion"

Under the ghostly sycamores - William Dean Howells "The Mulberries"

Listless dust by fortune blown - William Dean Howells "The Mulberries"

Wet trees hang above the walks - William D. Howells (uncredited) "The Old Homestead" [The Atlantic Monthly v.07 no.40, Feb. 1861]

Purple with damps and earthish stains - William D. Howells (uncredited) "The Old Homestead" [The Atlantic Monthly v.07 no.40, Feb. 1861]

Down the blank visage of the wall - William D. Howells (uncredited) "The Old Homestead" [The Atlantic Monthly v.07 no.40, Feb. 1861]

Where many a wavering trace appears - William D. Howells (uncredited) "The Old Homestead" [The Atlantic Monthly v.07 no.40, Feb. 1861]

So full of ruin's solemn grace - William D. Howells (uncredited) "The Old Homestead" [The Atlantic Monthly v.07 no.40, Feb. 1861]

And haunted with the ghost of home - William D. Howells (uncredited) "The Old Homestead" [The Atlantic Monthly v.07 no.40, Feb. 1861]

The swamps of the cypress - William Dean Howells "The Pilot's Story"

And the belated blackbird paused - William Dean Howells "The Pilot's Story"

With the mighty voice of a giant challenged - William Dean Howells "The Pilot's Story"

The harsh cries of the peacocks - William Dean Howells "The Pilot's Story"

With golden death was crowned - William Dean Howells "Pleasure-Pain"

Bitter for want of weeping - William Dean Howells "Pleasure-Pain"

The wren in the cherry tree - William Dean Howells "Pleasure-Pain"

Wells where Truth in secret lay - William D. Howells "A Poet"

Upon the sacred name of Song - William D. Howells "Prelude (to an Early Book of Verse)"

Netted clasp of knots and rings - William D. Howells "Saint Christopher"

Strong from the peril of the strife - William D. Howells "Saint Christopher"

Through trial sent and victory given - William D. Howells "Saint Christopher"

Balm in the sunlight and moonlight - William D. Howells "A Springtime"

And dew in the twilights between - William D. Howells "A Springtime"

For the wicked will betrayed and baffled - William D. Howells "Thanksgiving"

A dream of happiness remembered dim - William D. Howells "Vagary"

Puzzled brain and burning heat - William D. Howells "Vagary"

Far out of the wretched past - William D. Howells "While She Sang"

Cold through the clouds of sunset - William D. Howells "While She Sang"

Where the lingering larks were lurking - William D. Howells "While She Sang"


Poet's Wikipedia page.


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