The Story (John Gneisenau Neihardt Poems)
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 ...
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 ...
That day we wandered 'mid the hills,--so lone Clouds are not lonelier,--the forest lay In emerald darkness 'round us. Many a stone And ...
No bird-song floated down the hill,The tangled bank below was still;No rustle from the birchen stem,No ripple from the water's ...
That day we wandered 'mid the hills,—so loneClouds are not lonelier, the forest layIn emerald darkness round us. Many a ...
HERE the warm sunshine fillsLike wine of gods the deepening, cup-shaped dells,Embossed with marvellous flowers; the happy rillsRoam through the ...
The gold-bird came in the May mornDown fragrant billows of southwest weather:He fell, like a flame, in the sweet thorn,—He ...
Poor and inadequate the shadow-playOf gain and loss, of waking and of dream,Against life's solemn background needs must seemAt this ...
What I saw was just one eyeIn the dawn as I was going :A bird can carry all the skyIn ...
Oh, wind of the spring-time, oh, free wind of May, When blossoms and bird-song are rife; Oh, joy for the season, and ...
Red-faced as old carousal, and with eyes A hard, hot blue; her hair a frowsy flame, Bold, dowdy-bosomed, from her widow-frame She leans, ...
Rainy rush of bird-songApple-blossom smokeThin bells water-falling soundWind-rust on the silver pondFurry starring willow wandWan new grasses waking roundBlue bird ...
I think I would not beA stately tree,Broad-boughed, with haughty crest that seeks the sky;Too many sorrows lieIn years, too ...
The great and the little weavers, They neither rest nor sleep. They work in the height and the glory, They toil in the dark and the deep. The rainbow melts with the shower, The white-thorn falls in the gust, The cloud-rose dies into shadow, The earth-rose dies into dust. But they have not faded forever, They have not flowered in vain, For the great and the little weavers Are weaving under the rain. Recede the drums of the thunder When the Titan chorus tires, And the bird-song piercing the sunset Faints with the sunset fires, But the trump of the storm shall fail not, Nor the flute-cry fail of the thrush, For the great and the little weavers Are weaving under the hush. The comet flares into darkness, The flame dissolves into death, The power of the star and the dew They glow and are gone like a breath, But ere the old wonder is done Is the new-old wonder begun, For the great and the little weavers Are weaving under the sun. The domes of an empire crumble, A child's hope dies in tears; Time rolls them away forgotten In the silt of the flooding years; The creed for which men died smiling Decays to a beldame's curse; The love that made lips immortal Drags by in a tattered hearse. But not till the search of the moon Sees the last white face uplift, And over the bones of the kindreds The bare sands dredge and drift, Shall Love forget to return And lift the unused latch, (In his eyes the look of the traveller, On his lips the foreign catch), Nor the mad song leave men cold, Nor the high dream summon in vain, — For the great and the little weavers Are weaving in heart and brain.(Charles G. D. Roberts)
As I walked out one brave spring morn, When earth was young and new,I met a laughing mountain maid As ...
Now is the pause between asleep and awake:Two seasons takeA colour and quality each from each as yet.The new stage-setSpandril, ...
The dun sand-cliffs that break the desert's seaRose suddenly upon my sight at dawn,And terrible in an eternityOf death took ...
schnyder schnyder the bouncing spider had a song wound up inside her she'd had it taped on a silken spool ...
Wintah, summah, snow er shine, Hit's all de same to me, Ef only I kin call you mine, An' keep ...
For Barbara I step off the pavement like a precipice Engage the darting sunshafts in a duel In the wall's ...
I WILL make you brooches and toys for your delight Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night. I will ...
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