Before Sunrise (Maurice Thompson Poems)
Mid foliage green and gold,And bloom-sprays manifold,I feelThe fragrance of eternal freshness stealForth from the rising day,And far away,Like the ...
Mid foliage green and gold,And bloom-sprays manifold,I feelThe fragrance of eternal freshness stealForth from the rising day,And far away,Like the ...
Oh,How I long to go,On a seaward-blowing breeze,To the garden of the seas—To brave King Arthur's land,To that fair island ...
What is the grandest thoughtToward which the soul has wrought?Has it the epic form,And the power of a storm?Comes it ...
IIt was off the coast of the Terre aux Boeufs(And the breeze was brisk and the sea was rough)That Gaspard ...
The day is but a breezy dream,The sky is like a bloom;Life flows, a fragrant, bubbling stream,Along a lilied flume.The ...
Low-hung in darkness, steeped in tyranny,The earth was but a prison-pen for man,When a swift impulse leaped from sea to ...
O subtle, musky, slumbrous clime!O swart, hot land of pine and palm,Of fig, peach, guava, orange, lime,And terebinth and tropic ...
What bird is that, with voice so sweet,Sings to the sun from yonder tree?What girl is that so slim and ...
How tired! Eight hours of racking work,With sharp vexations shot between!Scant wages and few kindly words,—How gloomy the whole day ...
Ho, for the marshes, green with Spring,Where the bitterns croak and the plovers pipe,Where the gaunt old heron spreads his ...
Love is an isthmus that doth linkThis life with that which is to be;On either hand rolls off a sea,To ...
IHe sits among the morning hills,His face is bright and strong;He scans far heights, but scarcely notesThe herdsman's idle song.He ...
The joy is great of him who straysIn shady woods on summer days,With eyes alert and muscles steady,His longbow strung, ...
Where water-grass grows overgreenOn damp cool flats by gentle streams,Still as a ghost and sad of mien,With half-closed eyes the ...
Thou art the last rose of the year,By gusty breezes rudely fanned:The dying Summer holds thee fastIn the hot hollow ...
I heard the woodpecker pecking,The bluebird tenderly sing;I turned and looked out of my window,And lo, it was spring!A breath ...
Farewell! It is no sorrowful word.It has never had a pang for me.Sweet as the last song of a bird,Soft ...
Poised in a sheeny mistOf the dust of bloom,Clasped to the poppy's breast and kissed,Baptized in violet perfumeFrom foot to ...
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