The School-Boy (Oliver Wendell Holmes Poems)
THESE hallowed precincts, long to memory dear,Smile with fresh welcome as our feet draw near;With softer gales the opening leaves ...
THESE hallowed precincts, long to memory dear,Smile with fresh welcome as our feet draw near;With softer gales the opening leaves ...
Argument.Hail to thee, Sound!-The power of Euterpe in all the scenes of life-in religion; in works of charity; in soothing ...
The years go by, but they little seemLike those within our dream;The years that stood in such luring guise,Beckoning us ...
WHO at the court of Astolf, the great King,King of a realm of firs, and icy floes,Cold bright fiords, and ...
The years are many since his handWas laid upon my head,Too weak and young to understandThe serious words he said.Yet ...
Oft round my hall of portraiture I gaze,By Memory reared, the artist wise and holy,From stainless quarries of deep-buried days.There, ...
PENT in this common sphere of sensual shows,I pine for beauty; beauty of fresh mien,And gentle utterance, and the charm ...
Oh what is fame! a flower that dies at eve, A golden mist that subtle fancies weave, An unknown star ...
"I - At The Post-Office It was a gray, midwinter afternoon.A noisy wind pursued the fine hard flakesOf blinding snow, ...
To G.E.M.'Tis a little room, my friend—Baby walks from end to end;All the things look sadly realThis hot noontide unideal;Vaporous ...
What deep wounds ever clos'd without a scar?The heart's bleed longest, and but heal to wearThat which disfigures it. ...
IIn from the night.The storm is lifting his black arms up to the sky.Friend of my heart, who so gently ...
Push the bursting buds away,Throw aside the ripened roses,Hush the low-voiced waters' play,Where the weary sun reposesWith his head upon ...
Mr Fitzmickle, the martinet, Stern lord of his house and kin,Is a small, bald man, and a cricket fan Since ...
With eyes that are narrowed to pierce To the awful horizons of land, Through the blaze of hot days, and ...
I "Percussus sum sicut foenum, et aruit cor meum." - Ps. ci Wintertime nighs; But my bereavement-pain It cannot bring ...
Music of whispering trees Hushed by a broad-winged breeze Where shaken water gleams; And evening radiance falling With reedy bird-notes ...
THE low-voiced girls that go In gardens of the Lord, Like flowers of the field they grow In sisterly accord. ...
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