Wendell Phillips (John Boyle O Reilly Poems)
WHAT shall we mourn? For the prostrate tree that sheltered the young green wood?For the fallen cliff that fronted the ...
WHAT shall we mourn? For the prostrate tree that sheltered the young green wood?For the fallen cliff that fronted the ...
Lo! carpet-bag and bagger occupy the land, And prove the touring season actively begun; His personnel and purpose can none misunderstand, For each ...
He was a man whose lot was cast, As some might think, in lines severe; In humble toil whose life was passed From ...
Dear Wendell, why need count the years Since first your genius made me thrill,If what moved then to smiles or tears, Or ...
Ye morning-glories, ring in the gale your bells,And with dew water the walk's dust for the burden-bearing ants:Ye swinging spears ...
THESE August nights, hushed but for drowsy peepOf fledglings, tremble with a strange vibration,A sound too far for hearing, sullen, ...
Swoop! Swoop!From dizzy skies thou singestTo the shining earth.To where unseenAmid the greenUntimely death thou bringestTo unseeing mirth.Upon a dark ...
When the blue summer nightIs short and safe and light,How should the starlings any more rememberThe fearful, trembling times of ...
The waves they whisper In Luna's glance, Entrancing music For the nixies' dance. They beckon, smiling, And wavewise woo, While softly plashing:-- "Do thou love, too!" In blossoming ...
Soul, that in music, as a flower in light,Didst gem, and bloom, and vanish, with a breathThat mist-like o'er the ...
You, dear, have heard me vaunt a memory The which by trodden paths will ...
When I have a house . . . as I sometime may . . .I'll suit my fancy in every ...
'Twas a brave old spot, and deep was the shadeBy the fast-locked boughs of the elm-trees made,Where the sun scarce ...
I.A Song Of Spring.Bird in thy mossy nestCosily hid,Bird in thy mossy nestYoung leaves amid;Nigh is thy tuneful mate,Singing with ...
IN the Dean's porch a nest of clay With five small tentants may be seen; Five solemn faces, each ...
Spring sends young fishes to the sea, Young fledglings to ...
Oh, you young radicals and dreamers,You dauntless fledglingsWho pass by my headstone,Mock not its record of my captaincy in the ...
THINK not I roam afield With heart untrue; The gifts my rambles yield Are all for you. The bird must ...
He climbed to the top of one of those million white pines set out across the emptying pastures of the ...
She scrawled soft words in soap: "Never Forget," Dove-white on her car's window, and the wren, because her heart is ...
Oh, you young radicals and dreamers, You dauntless fledglings Who pass by my headstone, Mock not its record of my ...
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