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 ...
THE cannon's brazen lips are cold;No red shell blazes down the air;And street and tower, and temple old,Are silent as ...
All-day-long the crash of cannon Shook the battle-covered plain;All-day-long the frenzied foemen Dashed against our lines in vain;All the field was piled ...
Where the warm spring sunlight, streaming Through the window, sets its gleaming,With a softened silver sparkle in the dim and dusky ...
He is dead, the beautiful youth,The heart of honor, the tongue of truth,He, the life and light of us all,Whose ...
OUR neighbor of the undefended bound,Friend of the hundred years of peace, our kin,Fellow adventurer on the enchanted groundOf the ...
No bugle is blown, no roll of drums,No sound of an army marching.No banners wave high, no battle--cryComes from the ...
Queenly month of indolent repose! I drink thy breath in sips of rare perfume, As in thy downy lap of clover-bloomI nestle ...
I, from a window where the Meuse is wide,Looked eastward out to the September night;The men that in the hopeless ...
I, from a window where the Meuse is wide,Looked eastward out to the September night;The men that in the hopeless ...
IWhere the sun sinks through leagues of arid sky, Where the sun dies o'er leagues of arid plain,Where the dead ...
Ye, that the untrod paths have braved, With heart and brain unbound; Who ask not that your souls be ...
My heart is chilled and my pulse is slow,But often and often will memory go,Like a blind child lost in ...
They are firing the cannon now -Will it bring me back my dead?Will it raise my soldier-brother's form,And restore his ...
YOUR rondeau's tale must still be light -- No bugle-call to life's stern fight! Rather a smiling interlude Memorial to ...
I, from a window where the Meuse is wide, Looked eastward out to the September night; The men that in ...
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