One Day And Another: A Lyrical Eclogue – Part III (Madison Julius Cawein Poems)
LATE SUMMER _Heat lightning flickers in one cloud, As in a flow'r a firefly; Some rain-drops, that the rose-bush bowed, Jar through the leaves ...
LATE SUMMER _Heat lightning flickers in one cloud, As in a flow'r a firefly; Some rain-drops, that the rose-bush bowed, Jar through the leaves ...
LATE AUTUMN _They who die young are blest.-- Should we not envy such? They are Earth's happiest, God-loved and favored much!-- They who die young ...
WINTER _We, whom God sets a task, Striving, who ne'er attain, We are the curst!--who ask Death, and still ask in vain. We, whom God ...
It all comes back as the end draws near; All comes back like a tale of old! Shall I tell you all? ...
There are moments when, as missions, God reveals to us strange visions; When, within their separate stations, We may see the Centuries, Like revolving ...
On the tremulous coppice, From her plenteous hair, Large golden-rayed poppies Of moon-litten air The Night hath flung there. In the fern-favored hollow The fire-flies fleet Uncertainly ...
I Now is it as if Spring had never been, And Winter but a memory and dream, Here where the Summer stands, her ...
Found Solitary Among the Hills. I. O pansy-violet, With early April wet, How frail and pure you look Lost in this glow-worm nook Of heaven-holding hills: Down ...
Let us go far from here!Here there is sadness in the early year:Here sorrow waits where joy went laughing late:The ...
Dormered and verandaed, cool,Locust-girdled, on the hill;Stained with weather-wear, and dull-Streak'd with lichens; every sillThresholding the beautiful;I can see it ...
I. First of the insect choir, in the spring We hear his faint voice fluttering in the grass, Beneath some blossom's rosy covering Or ...
Windy the sky and mad; Surly the gray March day; Bleak the forests and sad, Sad for the beautiful May. On maples tasseled with ...
TO G. F. M. THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED IN MEMORY OF MANY DAYS. _What though I dreamed of mountain heights, Of peaks, the barriers of ...
The roses mourn for her who sleeps Within the tomb; For her each lily-flower weeps Dew and perfume. In each neglected flower-bed Each blossom droops ...
I.The last rose falls, wrecked of the wind and rain;Where once it bloomed the thorns alone remain: Dead in the wet ...
I CAME upon a pool that shone,Clear, emerald-like, among the hills,That seemed old wizards round a stoneOf magic that a ...
NIGHT, they say, is no man's friend:And at night he met his endIn the woods of Trebizend.Hate crouched near him ...
This was her home; one mossy gable thrustAbove the cedars and the locust trees:This was her home, whose beauty now ...
I. Let me forget her face! So fresh, so lovely! the abiding place Of tears and smiles that won my heart to her; Of ...
From "Wild Thorn and Lily"Among the white haw-blossoms, where the creekDroned under drifts of dogwood and of haw,The redbird, like ...
THE sunset was a sleepy gold,And stars were in the skiesWhen down a weedy lane he strolledIn vague and thoughtless ...
FEBRILE perfumes as of faded rosesIn the old house speak of love to-day,Love long past; and where the soft day ...
LOW, weed-climbed cliffs, o'er which at noonThe sea-mists swoon:Wind-twisted pines, through which the crowGoes winging slow:Dim fields, the sower never ...
The songs Love sang to us are dead:Yet shall he sing to us again,When the dull days are wrapped in ...
I. When all the world was white with flowers, And Summer, in her sun-built towers, Stood smiling 'mid her handmaid Hours, Who robed her ...
_On reading De Quincey's "Confessions of an Opium Eater."_ I seemed to stand before a temple walled From shadows and night's unrealities; Filled ...
Ah me! I shall not waken soonFrom dreams of such divinity!A spirit singing 'neath the moonTo me.Wild sea-spray driven of ...
IA mile of moonlight and the whispering wood:A mile of shadow and the odorous lane:One large, white star above the ...
Hills of the west, that gird Forest and farm,Home of the nestling bird, Housing from harm,When on your tops is heard Storm:Hills of ...
So Love is dead, the Love we knew of old!And in the sorrow of our hearts' hushed hallsA lute lies ...
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