Intimations Of The Beautiful (Madison Julius Cawein Poems)
IThe hills are full of propheciesAnd ancient voices of the dead;Of hidden shapes that no man sees,Pale, visionary presences,That speak ...
IThe hills are full of propheciesAnd ancient voices of the dead;Of hidden shapes that no man sees,Pale, visionary presences,That speak ...
I. SPRING ON THE HILLSAh, shall I follow, on the hills,The Spring, as wild wings follow?Where wild-plum trees make wan ...
IFirst LoveTHOUGH nurtured like the sailing moonIn beauty's murderous brood,She walked awhile and blushed awhileAnd on my pathway stoodUntil I ...
Who came so close then?--Brushed the wet lilac into mellow laughter;Set the smooth blackbird at his golden weavingMaking no stir ...
(Desired by the Fairies, and being Cold to Them, Slain by an Elf-bolt)White of skin and brown of hair,Here he ...
Ye hills of Wayne! Ye Hills of Wayne!In dreams I see your slopes again;In dreams my childish feet explore,Your daisied ...
One morning of the first sad Fall,Poor Adam and his brideSat in the shade of Eden's wall--But on the outer ...
COME and see ! Come and see ! "The Thrush pipes out of the haw-thorn-tree :And I and Dicky on ...
ARCH-SCHOLAR they'll call you,Kuno Mayer,Who know the wordBehind the wordThe men of learning . . .But who will tell themOf ...
I stood at the hedge as a hearse went byAnd passed me along the way;The sun broke in through a ...
JUNIPER gentle and rosemarie!There 's neat brown cones on the yellow larch,With scarlet haws on the gray thorn-tree.Ah, the year ...
WILD ROSE of Alloway! my thanks:Thou 'mindst me of that autumn noonWhen first we met upon "the banksAnd braes o'bonny ...
This is an evil night to go, my sister, To the thorn-tree across the fairy rath, Will you not wait ...
How like the sky she bends above her child, One with the great horizon of her pain! No sob ...
How large that thrush looks on the bare thorn-tree! A swarm of such, three little months ago, Had hidden in ...
A certain poet in outlandish clothes Gathered a crowd in some Byzantine lane, Talked1 of his country and its people, ...
We sat under an old thorn-tree And talked away the night, Told all that had been said or done Since ...
Hot August noon: already on that day Since sunrise through the Wiltshire downs, most sad Of mouth and eye, he ...
Into the woods my Master went, Clean forspent, forspent. Into the woods my Master came, Forspent with love and shame. ...
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