Hints Of Spring (Paul Hamilton Hayne Poems)
A SOFTENING of the misty heaven,A subtle murmur in the air;The electric flash through coverts oldOf many a shy wing, ...
A SOFTENING of the misty heaven,A subtle murmur in the air;The electric flash through coverts oldOf many a shy wing, ...
I.IT glooms forlornly 'mid wan ocean dunes,A desolate grave-mound on a dreary lea,Touched by sad splendors of gray-misted moons,Or veiled ...
SWEETHEART, good-bye! Our varied dayIs closing into twilight gray,And up from bare, bleak wastes of seaThe north-wind rises mournfully;A solemn ...
Below the down the stranded town What may betide forlornly waits, With memories of smoky skies, When Gallic navies crossed the straits; When waves ...
O DEEP grave eyes! that long have seemed to gazeOn our low level from far loftier days,O grand gray head! ...
Too oft the poet in elaborate verse,Flushed with quaint images and gorgeous tropes,Casteth a doubtful light, which is not hope's,On ...
The trees' reflection in the misty stream Dies off in livid steam;Whilst up among the actual boughs, forlorn, The tender wood-doves mourn.How ...
On the nineteenth day of the tenth month of the second year of Ta-li (15 November 767), in the residence ...
IN these rapid, restless shadows, Once I walked at eventide,When a gentle, silent maiden, Walked in beauty at ...
Hushed is the midnight rush and roar, At rest the pulse that all day long Throbbed onward like the endless ...
DEEM not thy labours or thy sufferings hard; The weary traveller makes a tuneless bard. Wouldst thou to raise and ...
To charitable deeds I'm not addicted, For sentiment I do not care a prune,And yet I weep at poverty ...
Ah, suffer that my songTo thee alone belong:No dearer happiness my heart would chooseThan thus to cast, O sweet,Each measured ...
"They" -- Traffics and Discoveries Neither the harps nor the crowns amused, nor the cherubs' dove-winged races-- Holding hands forlornly ...
I Eddie Linden Dear Eddie we've not met Except upon the written page And at your age the wonder Is ...
for Brenda Williams The dawn cracked with ice, with fire grumbling in the grate, With ire in the homes we ...
I'm sitting by the fire tonight, The cat purrs on the rug; The room's abrim with rosy light, Suavely soft ...
He was an old prospector with a vision bleared and dim. He asked me for a grubstake, and the same ...
I We thrill too strangely at the master's touch; We shrink too sadly from the larger self Which for its ...
You that in vain would front the coming order With eyes that meet forlornly what they must, And only with ...
When yellow leaves the sky they pipe it to the houses to go on making red and warm and floral ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories