One Day And Another: A Lyrical Eclogue – Part I (Madison Julius Cawein Poems)
LATE SPRING _The mottled moth at eventide Beats glimmering wings against the pane; The slow, sweet lily opens wide, White in the dusk like ...
LATE SPRING _The mottled moth at eventide Beats glimmering wings against the pane; The slow, sweet lily opens wide, White in the dusk like ...
IThe hills are full of propheciesAnd ancient voices of the dead;Of hidden shapes that no man sees,Pale, visionary presences,That speak ...
It all comes back as the end draws near; All comes back like a tale of old! Shall I tell you all? ...
An Ode to be read on the laying of the foundationstone of the new Oglethorpe University,January, 1915, at Atlanta,GeorgiaIAS when ...
I. O Life! O Death! O God! Have I not striven? Have I not known thee, God, As thy stars know Heaven? Have I not ...
I. What deity for dozing laziness Devised the lounging coziness of this Enchanted nook?--and how!--did I distress His musing ease that fled but now, ...
I. Upon the Siren-haunted seas, between Fate's mythic shores, Within a world of moon and mist, where dusk and daylight wed, I see ...
I. Now with the marriage of the lip and beaker Let Joy be born! and in the rosy shine, The slanting starlight of ...
John-a-Dreams and Harum-ScarumCame a-riding into town:At the Sign o' the Jug-and-JorumThere they met with Low-lie-down.Brave in shoes of Romany leather,Bodice ...
Above her, pearl and rose the heavens lay:Around her, flowers flattered earth with gold,Or down the path in insolence held ...
Above her, pearl and rose the heavens lay;Around her, flowers scattered earth with gold,Or down the path in insolence held ...
Summer may come, in sun-blonde splendor,To reap the harvest that Springtime sows;And Fall lead in her old defender, Winter, all huddled ...
I have not seen her face, and yet She is more sweet than any thing Of Earth--than rose or violet That Mayday winds ...
I saw a name carved on a tree -"Julia";A simpler name there could not be-Julia:But seeing it I seemed to ...
WHAT is the gold of mortal-kindTo that men findDeep in the poet's mind! -That magic purseOf Dreams from whichGod builds ...
_And one, perchance, will read and sigh: "What aimless songs! Why will he sing Of nature that drags out her woe Through wind ...
When my old heart was young, my dear, The Earth and Heaven were so near That in my dreams I oft could ...
Thou art the music that I hear in sleep, The poetry that lures me on in dreams; The magic, thou, that holds ...
There in the past I see her as of old,Blue-eyed and hazel-haired, within a roomDim with a twilight of tenebrious ...
Song hath a catalogue of lovely things Thy kind hath oft defiled,--whose spite misleads The world too often!--where the poet reads, As in ...
When Lydia smiles, I seem to seeThe walls around me fade and flee; And, lo, in haunts of hart and hind I ...
I HAD forgot how, in my dayThe Sabine fields around me layIn amaranth and asphodel,With many a cold Bandusian wellBright-bubbling ...
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