Sleep Is A Spirit (Madison Julius Cawein Poems)
Sleep is a spirit, who beside us sits, Or through our frames like some dim glamour flits; From out her form a ...
Sleep is a spirit, who beside us sits, Or through our frames like some dim glamour flits; From out her form a ...
I Beneath an old beech-tree They sat together, Fair as a flower was she Of summer weather. They spoke of life and love, While, through the ...
ISmall twilight singerOf dew and mist: thou ghost-gray, gossamer wingerOf dusk's dim glimmer,How chill thy note sounds; how thy wings ...
IThe hot sunflowers by the glaring pikeLift shields of sultry brass; the teasel tops,Pink-thorned, advance with bristling spike on spikeAgainst ...
A weed-grown slope, whereon the rain Has washed the brown rocks bare, Leads tangled from a lonely lane Down to a creek's broad ...
ICan freckled August,—drowsing warm and blondBeside a wheat-shock in the white-topped mead,In her hot hair the yellow daisies wound,—O bird ...
He dreamed of hills so deep with woods Storm-barriers on the summer sky Are not more dark, where plunged loud floods Down rocks ...
Thou pulse of hotness, who, with reedlike breast,Makest meridian music, long and loud,Accentuating summer!—Dost thy bestTo make the sunbeams fiercer, ...
IWhat words of mine can tell the spellOf garden ways I know so well?—The path that takes me in the ...
What joy you take in making hotness hotter, In emphasizing dullness with your buzz, Making monotony more monotonous! When Summer comes, and drouth ...
IBeyond lost seas of summer sheDwelt on an island of the sea,Last scion of that dynasty,Queen of a race forgotten ...
When the hornet hangs in the hollyhock,And the brown bee drones i' the rose;And the west is a red-streaked four-o'clock,And ...
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.When in the wind the vane turns round, And round, and round;And in his kennel whines the hound;When all the gable ...
Had fallen a fragrant shower; The leaves were dripping yet; Each fern and rain-weighed flower Around were gleaming wet; On ev'ry bosky bower A million ...
They lean their faces to me through Green windows of the woods;Their white throats sweet with honey-dew Beneath low leafy hoods--No dream ...
Sad-hearted spirit of the solitudes,Who comest through the ruin-wedded woods!Gray-gowned with fog, gold-girdled with the gloomOf tawny twilights; burdened with ...
THE rose, that wrote its message on the noon'sBright manuscript, has turned her perfumed faceTowards Fall, and waits, heart-heavy, for ...
At the moon's down-going let it beOn the quarry hill with its one gnarled tree.The red-rock road of the underbrush,Where ...
The pink rose drops its petals onThe moonlit lawn, the moonlit lawn;The moon, like some wide rose of white,Drops down ...
Who knows the things they dream, alas! Or feel, who lie beneath the ground? Perhaps the flowers, the leaves, and grass That close ...
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 ...
I. As some warm moment of repose In one rich rose Sums all the summer's lovely bloom And pure perfume-- So did her soul epitomize All ...
IThe summer takes its hueFrom something opulent as fair in her,And the bright heaven is brighter than it was;Brighter and ...
When first I gazed on GERTRUDE'S face, Beheld her loveliness and grace; Her brave gray eyes, her raven hair, Her ways, more winsome ...
No eve of summer ever can attain The gladness of that eve of late _July_, When 'mid the roses, filled with musk ...
There is a place hung o'er of summer boughsAnd dreamy skies wherein the gray hawk sleeps;Where water flows, within whose ...
Man's are the learnings of his books—What is all knowledge that he knowsBeside the wit of winding brooks,The wisdom of ...
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