The Old Water Mill (Madison Julius Cawein Poems)
Wild ridge on ridge the wooded hills arise,Between whose breezy vistas gulfs of skiesPilot great clouds like towering argosies,And hawk ...
Wild ridge on ridge the wooded hills arise,Between whose breezy vistas gulfs of skiesPilot great clouds like towering argosies,And hawk ...
I guess you think you know this story.You don't. The real one's much more gory.The phoney one, the one you ...
The girls all like to see the bluets in the laneAnd the saucy johnny-jump-ups in the meadow,But, we boys, we ...
(After the German of Goethe, _Faust_, II)When on the mountain tops ray-crowned ApolloTurns his swift arrows, dart on glittering dart,Let ...
When the sword of sixty comes nigh his headgive a man no wine, for he is drunk with years.Age claps ...
With eyes hand-arched he looks intoThe morning's face; then turns awayWith truant feet, all wet with dew,Out for a holiday.The ...
Welcome Winter, how cracks your ice?Fills your snow the valleys?I have here spring thaw at the hearthAnd no fire to ...
LEMMINIKAINEN'S SECOND WOOING.Spake the ancient LemminkainenTo the hostess of Pohyola:"Give to me thy lovely daughter,Bring me now thy winsome maiden,Bring ...
TIS April! 'Tis a holyday! and they shut close yester-even The golden gates of Sydenham with the clang of iron ...
MY father left a park to me, But it is wild and barren, A garden too with scarce ...
Whene'er I drink of Friezland ale,Drawn from an old brown bottle;I feel as if a summer mornWas running down my ...
Let them bury your big eyesIn the secret earth securely,Your thin fingers, and your fair,Soft, indefinite-colored hair,—All of these in ...
At first she was sure it was just a bit of dried strawberry juice, or a fleck of her mother's ...
A MIDDLE-AGE INTERLUDE. ROSA MUNDI; SEU, FULCITE ME FLORIBUS. A CONCEIT OF MASTER GYSBRECHT, CANON-REGULAR OF SAID JODOCUS-BY-THE-BAR, YPRES CITY. ...
I What's become of Waring Since he gave us all the slip, Chose land-travel or seafaring, Boots and chest, or ...
O GOWDIE, terror o' the whigs, Dread o' blackcoats and rev'rend wigs! Sour Bigotry, on her last legs, Girns an' ...
A quay with vessels moored Thomas To India! Yea, here I may take ship; From here the courses go over ...
It is full winter now: the trees are bare, Save where the cattle huddle from the cold Beneath the pine, ...
MY father left a park to me, But it is wild and barren, A garden too with scarce a tree, ...
I wonder if successful men Are always happy? And do they sing with gusto when Springtime is sappy? Although I ...
Let them bury your big eyes In the secret earth securely, Your thin fingers, and your fair, Soft, indefinite-colored hair,- ...
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