The Witch of Wenham (John Greenleaf Whittier Poems)
I.Along Crane River's sunny slopesBlew warm the winds of May,And over Naumkeag's ancient oaksThe green outgrew the gray.The grass was ...
I.Along Crane River's sunny slopesBlew warm the winds of May,And over Naumkeag's ancient oaksThe green outgrew the gray.The grass was ...
I CANNOT tell when first I saw her face;Was it athwart a sunset on the sea,When the huge billows heaved ...
In the beautiful May weather, Lapsing soon into June; On a golden, golden day Of the green and golden May, When our hearts were ...
AN ALGONQUIN LEGEND.HAPPY young friends, sit by me,Under May's blown apple-tree,While these home-birds in and outThrough the blossoms flit about.Hear ...
Buttercups and daisies,-- Bright children of the lawn-- To the fields are nodding In the winds of June. Such beauty of the meadows Gives a ...
Hark how the merry daffodils,Fling golden music to the hills!And how the hills send echoing down,Through wind-swept turf and moorland ...
'T is the noon of the spring-time, yet never a birdIn the wind-shaken elm or the maple is heard;For green ...
On this wild waste, where never blossom came, Save the white wind-flower to the billow's cap,Or those pale disks of momentary ...
Gone is the Gentian from the hill;Gone is the Wind-flower from the glade;Fritillary and DaffodilHave perished by the ruthless spade.But ...
When Spring comes laughingBy vale and hill,By wind-flower walkingAnd daffodil,—Sing stars of morning,Sing morning skies,Sing blue of speedwell,—And my Love's ...
Long, long ago, it seems, this summer mornThat pale-browed April passed with pensive treadThrough the frore woods, and from its ...
IBreathers of wisdom won without a quest,Quaint uncouth dreamers, voices high and strange,Flutists of land where beauty hath no change,And ...
A YEAR ago we walked the wood-- A year ago to-day; A blackbird fluttered round her ...
DOWN from yon distant mountainThe streamlet finds its way,And through the quiet village ,It flows in eddying play.A dark youth ...
Supposed to have been written in the New Forest,in early Spring. AS in the woods, where leathery Lichen weavesIts wint'ry ...
Wash of cold river in a glacial land, Ionian water, chill, snow-ribbed sand, drift of rare flowers, clear, with delicate ...
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and ...
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