In Capacity (Maurice Thompson Poems)
You ask me whyI long to flyOut from your palace to the dreamy woodsAnd the summer solitudes,Why I pineIn this ...
You ask me whyI long to flyOut from your palace to the dreamy woodsAnd the summer solitudes,Why I pineIn this ...
IDreams come true, and everythingIs fresh and lusty in the spring.In groves that smell like ambergris,Wind-songs, bird-songs, never cease.Go with ...
What is the grandest thoughtToward which the soul has wrought?Has it the epic form,And the power of a storm?Comes it ...
A migrant song-bird I,Out of the blue, between the sea and the sky,Landward blown on bright, untiring wings;Out of the ...
O subtle, musky, slumbrous clime!O swart, hot land of pine and palm,Of fig, peach, guava, orange, lime,And terebinth and tropic ...
What bird is that, with voice so sweet,Sings to the sun from yonder tree?What girl is that so slim and ...
In the oldest wood I know a brooklet,That bubbles over stones and roots,And ripples out of hollow places,Like music out ...
A great king once, so I have heard,Went out to hunt a singing-birdWhose voice should be so sweet and strong,So ...
When ice is thawed and snow is gone,And racy sweetness floods the trees;When snow-birds from the hedge have flown,And on ...
Oriole—athlete of the air—Of fire and song a glowing core,From tropic wildernesses fair,Spring's favorite lampadephore,A hot flambeau on either wingRimples ...
Love is an isthmus that doth linkThis life with that which is to be;On either hand rolls off a sea,To ...
Give me a day, let business right itself,Give me one day to drift in idlenessAlong the shores of dreamland. Let ...
If I were a poet, my sweetest songShould have the bouquet of scuppernong,With a racy smack in every lineFrom the ...
Spirit that moves the sap in spring,When lusty male birds fight and sing,Inform my words, and make my linesAs sweet ...
In the green solitudesOf the deep, shady woodsThy lot is kindly cast, and life to theeIs like a gust of ...
When germs were quickening in the mould,And sap was rich and leaves were young,Deep in the fragrant wood a lute,As ...
Where water-grass grows overgreenOn damp cool flats by gentle streams,Still as a ghost and sad of mien,With half-closed eyes the ...
A keen, insistent hint of dawnFell from the mountain height;A wan, uncertain gleam betrayedThe faltering of the night.The emphasis of ...
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