The Past (Margaret Holford Poems)
OH Earth! how fair thou art! With life, with mirth,With freshness, and with glory, teemest thou!Say, was the morn that ...
OH Earth! how fair thou art! With life, with mirth,With freshness, and with glory, teemest thou!Say, was the morn that ...
Oh Thou! whose viewless form, slow-stealing Time!Has silent march'd o'er many a conquer'd year!Shall thy chill pow'r pervade the glowing ...
Why idly, shepherd, through the live-long day,In thriftless song thy youthful leisure waste?The busy world now beckons thee away;Oh! quit ...
My Mother, thou hast not forgot the hour,Tho' Time since then is far upon his way,When youth and beauty crown'd ...
Whence is that pow'r, whose awful magic call,Imperious bids the astonish'd world attend,Before whose shrine adoring myriads fall,To whom the ...
Oh, Friend! who hand in hand, o'er steep and vale,Along life's path still journeyest by my side,Content alike, if sorrow's ...
AH yes! the hours, in verdure dress'd,Dance lightly on the plain;And, peeping from its mossy nest,Glad April sees his fragrant ...
And this was she! the peerless and the bright,The false world's darling! she who did possess(And held awhile in Europe's ...
Yes, it is hard the steep ascent to climbWhence Fame's proud structure beams upon the eye,And well I wot, that ...
LAST of the leaves! why lingerest thouSo late upon the naked bough?Those who were young with thee are gone,And thou ...
WHAT is the earliest task of woeOur nature struggles with below?Oh! when does man begin to learnOf human lot the ...
WHY, Parents, do your sorrowing sighsPursue your treasure to the skies?Why do your thoughts still sadly traceThe beauties of his ...
THERE is a word in every breast,That finds a sure response,Howe'er by present bliss caress'd,A sigh, that may not be ...
NO solitary mourner offers hereOf private grief th' unmingled, partial tear,Here mourns mankind! Here human nature weeps!For here, man's kindest ...
FANCY! thy living blushes spreadOn every bud my bow'r that blesses;Bend thou the branches o'er my head,Gem the soft turf ...
WHAT! art thou weary? Wouldst thou restFrom yon tumultuous world awhile,And welcome to thy feverish breastReflection's sad, yet quiet smile?Come ...
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