Woodrow Wilson Poems

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Woodrow Wilson
Thomas Woodrow Wilson (December 28, 1856–February 3, 1924), was the twenty-eighth President of the United States. A devout Presbyterian and leading intellectual of the Progressive Era, he served as president of Princeton University then became the reform governor of New Jersey in 1910. With Theodore Roosevelt and William Howard Taft dividing the Republican vote, Wilson was elected President as a Democrat in 1912. He proved highly successful in leading a Democratic Congress to pass major legislation including the Federal Trade Commission, the Clayton Antitrust Act, the Underwood Tariff, the Federal Farm Loan Act and most notably the Federal Reserve System. Re-elected narrowly in 1916, his second term centered on World War I. He tried to negotiate a peace in Europe, but when Germany began unrestricted submarine warfare he wrote several notes to Germany. He called on Congress to declare war when the factors that would lead to a favorable decision to enter war built up. Ignoring military affairs, he focused on diplomacy and finance. On the home front he began the first effective draft in 1917, raised billions through Liberty loans, imposed an income tax, set up the War Industries Board, promoted labor union growth, supervised agriculture and food production through the Lever Act, took over control of the railroads, and suppressed anti-war movements. He paid surprisingly little attention to military affairs, but provided the funding and food supplies that helped to make Allied victory in 1918 possible.

"o may i join the choir invisible"
Longum illud tempus, quum non ero, magis me movet, quam hoc exigium.

-- CICERO, a... [read poem]
sweet evenings come and go, love
"La noche buena se viene,
La noche buena se va,
Y nosotros nos iremos
Y no volveremos... [read poem]
i grant you ample leave
"I grant you ample leave
To use the hoary formula 'I am'
Naming the emptiness where though... [read poem]
for beauty i am not a star
For beauty I am not a star,
There are others more perfect by far,
But my face I don't ... [read poem]
in a london drawingroom
The sky is cloudy, yellowed by the smoke.
For view there are the houses opposite
Cutting t... [read poem]
'mid my gold-brown curls
'Mid my gold-brown curls
There twined a silver hair:
I plucked it idly out
And sc... [read poem]
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