Beechenbrook – II (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
The feathery foliage has broadened its leaves, And June, with its beautiful mornings and eves, Its magical atmosphere, breezes and blooms, Its woods ...
Margaret Junkin Preston Poems on Soldiers (12 Poems)
Beechenbrook – VI (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
The lull of the Winter is over; and Spring Comes back, as delicious and buoyant a thing, As airy, and fairy, and ...
Beechenbrook – I (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
There is sorrow in Beechenbrook Cottage; the day Has been bright with the earliest glory of May; The blue of the sky ...
Beechenbrook – VII (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
'Tis Autumn,--and Nature the forest has hung With arras more gorgeous than ever was flung From Gobelin looms,--all so varied, so rare, As ...
Beechenbrook – IX (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
When fierce and fast-thronging calamities rush Resistless as destiny o'er us, and crush The life from the quivering heart till we feel Like ...
Beechenbrook – IV (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
"I am weary and worn,--I am hungry and chill, And cuttingly strikes the keen blast o'er the hill; All day I have ...
Beechenbrook – V (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
"To-morrow is Christmas!"--and clapping his hands, Little Archie in joyful expectancy stands, And watches the shadows, now short and now tall, That momently ...
When The War Is Over (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
A CHRISTMAS LAY.I. Ah! the happy Christmas times! Times we all remember;-- Times that flung a ruddy glow O'er the gray December;-- Will they never ...
Gone Forward (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
YES, "Let the tent be struck": victorious morning Through every crevice flashes in a day Magnificent beyond all earth's adorning: The night is ...
Dirge For Ashby (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
Heard ye that thrilling word — Accent of dread —Fall, like a thunderbolt, Bowing each head?Over the battle dun,Over each booming gun ...
Only A Private (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
Only a private — and who will care When I may pass away,Or how, or why I perish, or where I mix ...
The Bivouac In The Snow (Margaret Junkin Preston Poems)
Halt!—the march is over, Day is almost done;Loose the cumbrous knapsack, Drop the heavy gun.Chilled and wet and weary, Wander to and fro,Seeking ...