One Day And Another: A Lyrical Eclogue – Part III (Madison Julius Cawein Poems)
LATE SUMMER _Heat lightning flickers in one cloud, As in a flow'r a firefly; Some rain-drops, that the rose-bush bowed, Jar through the leaves ...
LATE SUMMER _Heat lightning flickers in one cloud, As in a flow'r a firefly; Some rain-drops, that the rose-bush bowed, Jar through the leaves ...
The eve now came; and shadows cowled the way Like somber palmers, who have kneeled to pray Beside a wayside shrine, and ...
LATE SPRING _The mottled moth at eventide Beats glimmering wings against the pane; The slow, sweet lily opens wide, White in the dusk like ...
"Thou askest with thy studious eyes again, Here where the restless forest hears the main Toss in a troubled sleep and moan. ...
Noon; and the wistful Autumn sat among The lurid woodlands; chiefs who now were wrung By crafty ministers, sun, wind and frost, To ...
EARLY SUMMER _The cricket in the rose-bush hedge Sings by the vine-entangled gate; The slim moon slants a timid edge Of pearl through one ...
He? why, a tall Franconian strong and young, Brown as a walnut the first frost hath hulled; A soul of full endeavor ...
I. Sleep while I sing to thee, Dulcinea,-- How like a shower of moonlight-crusted beams Of textile form compact, whose veins run stars,-- Discovered ...
The gods of Asaheim, incensed with Loke, A whirlwind yoked with thunder-footed steeds, And, carried thus, boomed o'er the booming seas, Far as ...
I met him here at Ammendorf one Spring. It was the end of April and the Harz, Veined to their ruin-crested summits, ...
I. And now once more we stood within the walls Of her old manor near the riverside; Dead leaves lay rotting in its ...
Not far from here, it lies beyond That low-hilled belt of woods. We'll take This unused lane where brambles make A wall of ...
LATE AUTUMN _They who die young are blest.-- Should we not envy such? They are Earth's happiest, God-loved and favored much!-- They who die young ...
WINTER _We, whom God sets a task, Striving, who ne'er attain, We are the curst!--who ask Death, and still ask in vain. We, whom God ...
Hate, born of Wrath and mother red of Crime, In Hell was whelped ere the hot hands of time, Artificer of God, ...
From the terrace here, where the hills indent, You can see the uttermost battlement Of the castle there; the Cliffords' home; Where the ...
IThe hills are full of propheciesAnd ancient voices of the dead;Of hidden shapes that no man sees,Pale, visionary presences,That speak ...
_In Commemoration of the Founding of the Massachusetts Bay Colony in the Year 1623._ I. They who maintained their rights, Through storm and stress, And ...
_Year 13--._ Barbican, bartizan, battlement, With the Abergavenny mountains blent, Look, from the Raglan tower of Gwent, My lord Hugh Clifford's ancient home Shows, clear ...
It all comes back as the end draws near; All comes back like a tale of old! Shall I tell you all? ...
Here on this jutting headland, where the trees Spread a dusk carpet for the sun to cast And count his golden guineas ...
IGREEN, watery jets of light let throughThe rippling foliage drenched with dew;And golden glimmers, warm and dim,That in the vistaed ...
I had not found the road too short,As once I had in days of youth,In that old forest of long ...
There was once a little boy -So my father told me - whoNever cared for any toy,But just sweet things, ...
Wild ridge on ridge the wooded hills arise,Between whose breezy vistas gulfs of skiesPilot great clouds like towering argosies,And hawk ...
TO J. FOX, JR. You remember how the mist, When we climbed to Devil's Den, Pearly in the mountain glen, And above us, amethyst, Throbbed ...
Ah, Geraldine, lost Geraldine, That night of love, when first we met, You have forgotten, Geraldine-- I never dreamed you would forget. Ah, Geraldine, ...
Do you know the way that goes Over fields of rue and rose,-- Warm of scent and hot of hue, Roofed with heaven's ...
I. ANNISQUAM Old days, old ways, old homes beside the sea; Old gardens with old-fashioned flowers aflame, Poppy, petunia, and many a name Of many ...
I. SPRING ON THE HILLSAh, shall I follow, on the hills,The Spring, as wild wings follow?Where wild-plum trees make wan ...
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