The Coming Of The King (Kate Seymour Maclean Poems)
As the sand of the desert is smitten By hoof-beats that strike out a light,A flash by which dumb things are ...
As the sand of the desert is smitten By hoof-beats that strike out a light,A flash by which dumb things are ...
I touch but the things which are near; The heavens are too high for my reach: In shadow and symbol and creed, I ...
Cradled in ice, and swathed in snows, And shining like a Christmas rose,Wreathed round with white chrysanthemums; Heaven in his innocent, brave ...
A half a century of time, The mingled pain and blissThat make the history of life Between that day and this;Two lives ...
Break over the waiting hill-tops, White dawn of the Christmas morn!For the angels have sung through the midnight, That the wonderful Babe ...
I wonder what he is thinking In the ploughing field all day.He watches the heads of his oxen, And never looks this ...
The birth day of the Christ child dawneth slow Out of the opal east in rosy flame, As if a luminous picture ...
Marguerite,—oh Marguerite!Thy sleep is sound, and still and sweet,Framed in the pale gold of thy hair,Thy face is like an ...
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