May-Day (Ralph Waldo Emerson Poems)
Daughter of Heaven and Earth, coy Spring,With sudden passion languishing,Maketh all things softly smile,Painteth pictures mile on mile,Holds a cup ...
Daughter of Heaven and Earth, coy Spring,With sudden passion languishing,Maketh all things softly smile,Painteth pictures mile on mile,Holds a cup ...
I.Low the sun beat on the land, Red on vine and plain and wood;With the wine-cup in his hand, Vast the Helot ...
Within the sitting-room, the companyHad been increased in number. Two or threeYoung couples had been added: Emma King,Ella and Mary ...
YEARLY thrilled the plum treeWith the mother-mood;Every June the rose stockBore her wonder-child:Every year the wheatlandsReared a golden brood:World of ...
Yearly thrilled the plum treeWith the mother-mood;Every June the rose stockBore her wonder-child:Every year the wheatlandsReared a golden brood:World of ...
Cisterns and stones; the fig-tree in the wallCasts down her shadow, ashen as her boughs,Across the road, across the thick ...
Did all the lets and bars appear To every just or larger end,Whence should come the trust and cheer? Youth must its ...
On the morning of May,Ere the children had entered my gateWith their wreaths and mechanical lay,A metal ding-dong of the ...
INot yet had History's Aetna smoked the skies,And low the Gallic Giantess lay enchained,While overhead in ordered set and riseHer ...
Days, when the ball of our visionHad eagles that flew unabashed to sun;When the grasp on the bow was decision,And ...
Hearken my chant, 'tisAs a Bacchante's,A grape-spurt, a vine-splash, a tossed tress, flown vaunt 'tis!Suffer my singing,Gipsy of Seasons, ere ...
J'aime Monsieur Francois Rabelais, that Rough, shoulder-shrugging, laughing Frenchman,Who struts about, broad, red, and fat, With humour for his constant ...
O bird with heart of wassail, That toss the Bacchic branch,And slip your shaken music, An elfin avalanche;Come tell me, ...
My sad heart leaks at the poop,My heart covered in filthy shag:They squirt it with jets of soup,My sad heart ...
Spring blows her fruitful breath, and swiftly curls Her vaporous blessing over hill and lea; With naked arms the fair ...
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