Night In State Street (Harriet Monroe Poems)
Art thou he?-The seer and sage, the hero and lover-yea,The man of men, then away from the haughtydayCome with me!Ho-ho! ...
Art thou he?-The seer and sage, the hero and lover-yea,The man of men, then away from the haughtydayCome with me!Ho-ho! ...
White Rose, talk to me!I don't know what to do.Why do you say no word to me,Who say so much ...
Here in the dusk I see her face againAs then I knew it, ere she fell asleep;Renunciation glorifying pain Of her ...
THEY cried before my gate at morning-mirth,"Come out and help us burn the weeds from earth!"But I was planting out ...
White from her chrysalis of cloud, The moth-like moon swings upward through the night; And all the bee-like stars that crowd The hollow ...
Someday I shall go West,Having won all time to love it in, at last,Too still to boast.But when I smell ...
O moon, large golden summer moon, Hanging between the linden trees, Which in the intermittent breezeBeat with the rhythmic pulse of June!O ...
This is the first soft snowThat tiptoes up to your doorAs you sit by the fire and sew,That sifts through ...
If I, athirst by a stream, should kneelWith never a blossom or bud in sight,Till down on the theme of ...
Your looks have touched my soul with bright Ineffable emotion;As moonbeams on a stormy nightIllume with transitory lightA seagull on her ...
The fields and lanes show fresh and fain Pranked in the jewels of the rain; And the scent that breathes ...
1 BLESSED was she that bare, Hidden in flesh most fair,For all men's sake ...
BRIARWaiting for love I shyly creptInto a turret room and slept.I woke uneasily at mornAfter a hundred years. The thornHas ...
Out of the purple drifts, From the shadow sea of night, On tides of musk a moth uplifts ...
Cut down that timber! Bells, too many and strong, Pouring their music through the branches bare, From moon-white church towers ...
(In memoriam C. T. W. Sometime trooper of the Royal Horse Guards obiit H.M. prison, Reading, Berkshire July 7, 1896) ...
The bows glided down, and the coast Blackened with birds took a last look At his thrashing hair and whale-blue ...
I. I DREAMED of forest alleys fair And fields of gray-flowered grass, Where by the yellow summer moon My Jenny ...
A gallant city has been builded far In the pied heaven, Bannered with crimson, sentinelled by star Of crystal even; ...
I was the Widow McFarlane, Weaver of carpets for all the village. And I pity you still at the loom ...
Oh, not the loss of the accomplished thing! Not dumb farewells, nor long relinquishment Of beauty had, and golden summer ...
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