Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems on Nature (57 Poems)

The Story Of Glaucus The Thessalian (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)

LIST to this legend, which an antique poetHath left among the musty tomes of eld,Like a flushed rosebud pressed between the leavesOf some worn, dark-hued volume. What a lightOf healthful bloom about it! What an airSeems breathing round its delicate … Continue reading →

The Imprisoned Innocents (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)

ONE morning I said to my wife,Near the time when the heavens are rifeWith the Equinoctial strife,“Arabella, the weather looks ugly as sin!Observe, how those mists from the ocean beginTo creep eastward and blendWith the sickly street vapors fantastic and … Continue reading →

Unveiled (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)

I CANNOT tell when first I saw her face;Was it athwart a sunset on the sea,When the huge billows heaved tumultuously,Or in the quiet of some woodland place,Wrapped by the shadowy boonOf breezeless verdures from the summer noon?Or likelier still, … Continue reading →

Coquette And Her Lover (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)

A “PETITE COMEDIE” IN RHYME. LOVER. COQUETTE! coquette! now, is it fairTo weave for me your magic hair,Binding me thus, all unaware?Till, wholly meshed in every part,From dazzled eyes to captured heart,Scarce can I, thro’ your radiant snare,Inhale one waft … Continue reading →

The Snow-Messengers (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)

THE pine-trees lift their dark bewildered eyes–Or so I deem–up to the clouded skies;No breeze, no faintest breeze, is heard to blow:In wizard silence falls the windless snow. It falls in breezeless quiet, strangely still;‘Scapes the dulled pane, but loads … Continue reading →

The Hanging Of Black Kudjo (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)

WELL, Maussa! if you wants to heer, I’ll tell you ’bout um ‘true.Doh de berry taut ob dat bad time is fit to tun me blue;A sort ob brimstone blue on black, wid jist a stare o’ wite,As when dem … Continue reading →

Allan Herbert (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)

SCENE I.[The hall of a country house in Westmoreland, surrounded with portraits of the M. . . . family. Allan Herbert, and Jocelyn, an old domestic, are seen standing before the likeness of a lady, young, and wonderfully fair.]HERBERT. The … Continue reading →

MacDonald’s Raid.-A.D. 1780. (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)

I REMEMBER it well; ’twas a morn dull and gray,And the legion lay idle and listless that day,A thin drizzle of rain piercing chill to the soul,And with not a spare bumper to brighten the bowl,When Macdonald arose, and unsheathing … Continue reading →

Visit Of The Wrens (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)

FLYING from out the gusty west,To seek the place where last year’s nest,Ragged, and torn by many a routOf winter winds, still rocks aboutThe branches of the gnarled old treeWhich sweep my cottage library–Here on the genial southern side,In a … Continue reading →

By The Grave Of Henry Timrod (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)

WHEN last we parted–thy frail hand in mine–Above us smiled September’s passionless sky,And touched by fragrant airs, the hillside pineThrilled in the mellow sunshine tenderly;So rich the robe on nature’s slow decay,We scarce could deem the winter tide was near,Or … Continue reading →