The Gathering of the Brown-Eyed (Henry Lawson Poems)
THE BROWN EYES came from Asia, where all mystery is true,Ere the masters of Soul Secrets dreamed of hazel, grey, ...
THE BROWN EYES came from Asia, where all mystery is true,Ere the masters of Soul Secrets dreamed of hazel, grey, ...
Poor Arctic! once awhile my floating home Full of kind faces, my right royal yacht, Alas! how swift and terrible a lotHas ...
MORTALS there are who seem, all over, flame,Vitalized radiance, keen, intense, and high,Whose souls, like planets in it dominant sky,Burn ...
THE noon was as a crystal bowl The red wine mantled through;Around it like a Viking's beard The red-gold hazes blew,As tho' ...
A pearl-foam at his feetThe waters leap and fall;The sentry treads his beatUpon the sun-girt wall.Bronzed of visage, he,Stern, resolute ...
What has the sea swept up?A Viking oar, long mouldered in the peaceOf grey oblivion? Some dim-burning bowlOf unmixed gold, ...
I wonder if the spell, the mystery,That like a haze about your silence clings,Moulding your void until we seem to ...
Take the boat to the bounds of the ocean, Away to the ends of the earth:We've a heritage no one ...
This morning more mysterious seems the sea Than yesterday when, with reverberant roar, It charged upon the beaches, and the ...
Turn your head. Look. The light is turning yellow. The river seems enriched thereby, not to say deepened. Why this ...
Beneath the golden eagle's shade Gleam restless eyes of steely grey,That look out calmly, unafraid, From brows deep-tann'd ...
Like a meteor, radiant, streaming,Seems her hair to me,And thou bear'st her feet like lilies,Dark and chilly sea!Wannish fires enclasp ...
No more shall I seeIn its upward motionThe smoke of the Northland. Man is a slave:The fates decree.On the waste ...
"Speak! speak I thou fearful guest Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest, Comest to daunt me! ...
Turn your head. Look. The light is turning yellow. The river seems enriched thereby, not to say deepened. Why this ...
Have you heard of one Humpty Dumpty How he fell with a roll and a rumble And curled up like ...
Against the rubber tongues of cows and the hoeing hands of men Thistles spike the summer air And crackle open ...
I'll tell of Canute, King of England, A native of Denmark was he, His hobbies was roving and raiding And ...
GIFT from the cold and silent Past! A relic to the present cast, Left on the ever-changing strand Of shifting ...
Far back when I went zig-zagging through tamarack pastures you were my genius, you my cast-iron Viking, my helmed lion-heart ...
A little child stood thinking, sorrowfully and ill at ease, In a forest beneath the branches of the tall pine ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories