Before Sunrise (Maurice Thompson Poems)
Mid foliage green and gold,And bloom-sprays manifold,I feelThe fragrance of eternal freshness stealForth from the rising day,And far away,Like the ...
Mid foliage green and gold,And bloom-sprays manifold,I feelThe fragrance of eternal freshness stealForth from the rising day,And far away,Like the ...
Oh,How I long to go,On a seaward-blowing breeze,To the garden of the seas—To brave King Arthur's land,To that fair island ...
You ask me whyI long to flyOut from your palace to the dreamy woodsAnd the summer solitudes,Why I pineIn this ...
Hear!Hear!Oh, will you hear?Reed-notes clear,(Fluted in flowery, May-drowsed solitudes,Filtered through sun-steeped woods)A challenge hurledTo all the singing world!I, the mocking ...
A crossbow old, with lathe and gaffle grim,And carven stock, hung in a castle hall—Mere bricabrac, but on the distance ...
What bird is that, with voice so sweet,Sings to the sun from yonder tree?What girl is that so slim and ...
I lay close down beside the river,My bow well strung, well filled my quiver,The god that dwells among the reedsSang ...
A great king once, so I have heard,Went out to hunt a singing-birdWhose voice should be so sweet and strong,So ...
Ho, for the marshes, green with Spring,Where the bitterns croak and the plovers pipe,Where the gaunt old heron spreads his ...
Leap to the highest height of spring,And trill thy sweetest note,Bird of the heavenly plumes and twinkling wingAnd silver-ton(Maurice Thompson)
She had a bow of yellow horn,Like the old moon at early morn.She had three arrows strong and good,Steel set ...
If I were a poet, my sweetest songShould have the bouquet of scuppernong,With a racy smack in every lineFrom the ...
The gold-bird came in the May mornDown fragrant billows of southwest weather:He fell, like a flame, in the sweet thorn,—He ...
Seven gold reeds grew tall and slim,Close by the river's beaded brim.Syrinx, the naiad, flitted past;Pan, the goat-hoofed, followed fast.Oh, ...
Farewell! It is no sorrowful word.It has never had a pang for me.Sweet as the last song of a bird,Soft ...
What art thou, say, a bird, or beast, or what?Leering from that old plane-tree's hollow stem!Thine eyes have something criminal ...
What art thou, say, a bird, or beast, or what?Leering from that old plane-tree's hollow stem!Thine eyes have something criminal ...
Where a bright creek into the river's sideShoots its keen arrow, a green heron sitsWatching the sunfish as it gleaming ...
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