A Home Idyl (John Townsend Trowbridge Poems)
I.OVER the valley the storm-clouds blow,Dark and low;The wild air whitens with flying snow.Through the timber two lovers ride,Side by ...
I.OVER the valley the storm-clouds blow,Dark and low;The wild air whitens with flying snow.Through the timber two lovers ride,Side by ...
SELL old Robin, do you say? Well, I reckon not today!I have let you have your way with the land,With ...
FROM the house of desolation,From the doors of lamentation,I went forth into the midnight and the vistas of the moon;Where ...
The listening Dryads hushed the woods;The boughs were thick, and thin and fewThe golden ribbons fluttering through;Their sun-embroidered, leafy hoodsThe ...
'T IS Pleasant, indeed,As the letters readOn the guideboard at the crossing.Over the streetThe branches meet,Gently swaying and tossing.Through its ...
WRITTEN FOR J. G. WHITTIER'S SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY."I was once a barefoot boy."- J. G. WHITTIER.ON Haverhill's pleasant hills there played,Some ...
TO Nature, in her shop one day, at work compounding simples,Studying fresh tints for Beauty's cheeks, or new effects in ...
The speckled sky is dim with snow,The light flakes falter and fall slow;Athwart the hill-top, rapt and pale,Silently drops a ...
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