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 ...
From out the dark of death, before the gatesFlung wide, that open into paradise--More radiant than the white gates of ...
Under the orchard boughs, That drop red leaves like coals into the grass. The golden arrows of the sunset fall; And on the ...
Dread phantom, with pale finger on thy lips, Who dost unclose the awful doors for each, That ope but once, and are ...
When the earliest south winds softly blowOver the brown earth, and the waning snowIn the last days of the discrowned ...
It is the hither side, O Hope,And afternoon; our shadows slopeBackward along the mountain cope.The early morning was so sweet,We ...
Into the darkness and the deeps My thoughts have strayed, where silence dwells,Where the old world encrypted sleeps,— Myriads of forms, in ...
Cloudy argosies are drifting down into the purple dark,And the long low amber reaches, lying on the horizon's mark,Shape themselves ...
A half a century of time, The mingled pain and blissThat make the history of life Between that day and this;Two lives ...
Under the bare brown rafters, In his garret bed he lay,And dreamed of the bright hereafters. And the merry morns of May.The ...
The poet's song, and the bird's, And the waters' that chant as they runAnd the waves' that kiss the beach, And the ...
Break over the waiting hill-tops, White dawn of the Christmas morn!For the angels have sung through the midnight, That the wonderful Babe ...
Art thou not sweet,Oh world, and glad to the inmost heart of thee! All creatures rejoice With one rapturous voice. As I, with ...
O rain, Summer Rain! forever, Out of the crystal spheres,And cool from my brain the fever, And wash from my eyes the ...
Oh Sea, that with infinite sadness, and infinite yearningLiftest thy crystal forehead toward the unpitying stars,—Evermore ebbing and flowing, and ...
A little white soul went up to God, Out of the mire of the city street;It grew like a flower in ...
A little bird woke singing in the night, Dreaming of coming day,And piped, for very fulness of delight, His little roundelay.Dreaming he ...
There is a splendid tropic flower which flingsIts fiery disc wide open to the core—One pulse of subtlest fragrance—once a ...
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