The Pool (Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall Poems)
COME with me, follow me, swift as a moth,Ere the wood-doves waken.Lift the long leaves and look down, look downWhere ...
COME with me, follow me, swift as a moth,Ere the wood-doves waken.Lift the long leaves and look down, look downWhere ...
Its rotting fence one scarcely seesThrough sumac and wild blackberries,Thick elder and the bramble-rose,Big ox-eyed daisies where the beesHang droning ...
COUCHED in cool shadow, girt by billowy swells,Of foliage, rippling into buds and flowers,Here I repose o'erfanned by breezy bowers,--Lulled ...
The trees' reflection in the misty stream Dies off in livid steam;Whilst up among the actual boughs, forlorn, The tender wood-doves mourn.How ...
IYoung laughters, and my music! Aye till now The voice can reach no blending minors near; ...
Deep in the sloping forest that surrounds The head of a green valley that I know, Spread the fair gardens ...
She has made me wayside posies: here they stand, Bringing fresh memories of where they grew. As new-come travellers from ...
Be my companion under cool arcades That frame some drowsy street and dazzling square Beyond whose flowers and palm-tree promenades ...
(Newdigate prize poem recited in the Sheldonian Theatre Oxford June 26th, 1878. To my friend George Fleming author of 'The ...
Be my companion under cool arcades That frame some drowsy street and dazzling square Beyond whose flowers and palm-tree promenades ...
Deep in the sloping forest that surrounds The head of a green valley that I know, Spread the fair gardens ...
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