Autumn in England (Emily Mary Barton Poems)
1st November, 1837Another bright summer for ever has fled.And the song of the warblers is silent and dead;The heavens are ...
1st November, 1837Another bright summer for ever has fled.And the song of the warblers is silent and dead;The heavens are ...
Written after the departure of a Friend with her Infant. HAIL , sov'reign Memory, hail! I court thy pow'r,I love ...
"O'ER flowery fields of waving maize, The breeze of morning lightly plays; Arise, my Zumia! let us rove, The cool ...
O! friend of Solitude, appear,O! nymph to Contemplation dear,Who oft invokes thy aid;Amid the busy cares of day,No moment owns ...
WELCOME, sweet season of delight,What beauties charm the wond'ring sightIn thy enchanting reign!How fresh descends the morning dew,Whilst op'ning flow'rs ...
IN vain the sprightly sun renews his course,Climbs up th' ascending signs and leads the day,While long embattled clouds repel ...
O COME, welcome visitor, clothe by degreesOur fields in their annual vest;Hang thy fleeces unsoil'd on our bushes and trees,Tho' ...
No matter if things Go wrong at morn'Fore t'edge of dark Song is born.In murk o' cities ...
In the valley of my life Sings a "Singing-Bird",And its voice thro' calm and strife Is sweetly heard.In the day ...
And now the youthful, gay, capricious Spring,Piercing her showery clouds with crystal light,And with their hues reflected streaking brightHer radiant ...
North of Solitary Mountain Templeand west of Chia Pavilionthe water's surface is flattenedby the wet feet of clouds.Early warblers dart ...
Now while the birds within their feathers hide The nestled head, thy visit, Moon, renew; Let thy pale spirit thro' ...
Cherry-ripe: dark sweet burlats, scarlet reverchons firm-fleshed and tart in the mouth bigarreaux, peach-and-white napoléons as the harvest moves north ...
DAMON. Haste! Sylvia! haste, my charming Maid! Let's leave these fashionable toys; Let's seek the shelter of some shade, And ...
NO more, ye warblers of the wood! no more; Nor pour your descant grating on my soul; Thou young-eyed Spring! ...
I. ADIEU, New-England's smiling meads, Adieu, the flow'ry plain: I leave thine op'ning charms, O spring, And tempt the roaring ...
THE groundflame of the crocus breaks the mould, Fair Spring slides hither o'er the Southern sea, Wavers on her thin ...
I know a village in a far-off land Where from a sunny, mountain-girdled plain With tinted walls a space on ...
BECAUSE I have called to you as the flame flamingo calls, or the want of a spotted hawk is called- ...
WHAT was the name you called me?- And why did you go so soon? The crows lift their caw on ...
I I dream of journeys repeatedly: Of flying like a bat deep into a narrowing tunnel Of driving alone, without ...
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