Quarterman’s Grace. Part II (Emily Pfeiffer Poems)
The fields and lanes show fresh and fain Pranked in the jewels of the rain; And the scent that breathes ...
The fields and lanes show fresh and fain Pranked in the jewels of the rain; And the scent that breathes ...
Scene I.A Garden on the banks of the Thames, at Fulham, behind the Wynnes' lodgings. Time, evening. Moon and starlight. ...
I.-TRIOLET. Warm from the wall she chose a peach, ...
You, dear, have heard me vaunt a memory The which by trodden paths will ...
My lady sat in her bower, and span From a newly plenished creel; She loved the wild sea noise that ...
Three long days o'er the barren steppe Where the earth lay dead in her winding-sheet She measured the hours from ...
'Twas the hour of four by Quarterman's clock Of a July day in the afternoon,- Four of the clock, not ...
Beautiful Death! I sing thee as one has sung Whose ...
The earth smells dank, the weeds grow rank, The cold ...
Scene I.The great Hall of Wynhavod House. The walls hung with old portraits, arms, trophies of the chase, and a ...
Two shapes passed over the sobbing sea To land at Dunolly Bay; One passed at sunrise, one at noon Of ...
I awoke at a breath, and looked out on the world's wan face While the dew like a death-damp hung ...
Out of the night of his sorrow, Why does the ...
IN EAR OF CLUNY WATER.I. BREAK, break, O heart! upon this stony shore Of Time, for not the most tormented ...
My true love made a home for me Or ever ...
I. THE callow eagle in its downy nest, Betwixt the blue above and blue beneath, Or wrapped in swirling cloud ...
He that is washed needs but to wash his feet, ...
I. THOSE fine-drawn string?d notes so inly smite, It is as if the bows of sprites could strain The sensitive ...
I. VIRGIN of Troy, the days were well with thee When wandering singing by the singing streams Of Ilion, thou ...
WOMAN, whose lot hath alway been to bear Love's load beneath the heart, set there to hold It high, and ...
OUR souls are natives of the Infinite, And learn with toil to breathe the air of Time; Our early loves ...
OUR house of Life that hath been built so long, That is so fitly stored, whose plan denies That it ...
NEVER to hear the chorus that awakes The morning strive together in the grove; Never to hear the plaining of ...
MY soul is like some cage-born bird, that hath A restless prescience-howsoever won- Of a broad pathway leading to the ...
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