March 1848 (Peter John Allan Poems)
Old creeping Time, your rusty scythe let fall, Perhaps you then may go a little faster;Now, like a mourner at a ...
Old creeping Time, your rusty scythe let fall, Perhaps you then may go a little faster;Now, like a mourner at a ...
THE latter rain, it falls in anxious hasteUpon the sun-dried fields and branches bare,Loosening with searching drops the rigid wasteAs ...
The spring is coming by a many signs; The trays are up, the hedges broken down,That fenced the haystack, and the ...
There was such beauty in the dappled valleyAs hurt the sight, the heart stabbed to tears.The gathered beautifulness of all ...
THE Branched Atomes Formes each Planted thing,The hooked points pull out, and makes them spring,The Atomes Round give Juice, the ...
Take me from these dreary shades,Lift me to some softer morn,Where the laughing light invadesThat old silence of the gladesWhich ...
Great spirits now on earth are sojourning; He of the cloud, the cataract, the lake, Who on Helvellyn's summit, wide awake,Catches his ...
When trees in SpringAre blossomingMy lady wakesFrom dreams whose lightMade dark days bright,For their sweet sakes.Yet in her eyesA shadow ...
Something is calling ... calling through the rain,--I heard it first when I was but a child,Careless, among rose-brambles running ...
THOU last pale relic from yon widow'd tree,Hovering awhile in air, as if to leaveThy native sprig reluctant, how I ...
Can pleasing sight, misfortune ever bring?Can firme desire a painefull torment trye?Can winning eyes prove to the heart a sting?Or ...
An old, mad, blind, despised, and dying king,--Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flowThrough public scorn,--mud from a ...
1 Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king,2 Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,3 ...
MARCH comes at last, the labouring lands to free.Rude blusterer, with thy cloud-compelling blast,The pining plains from cark of Winter ...
Welcome, strong soul of Poesy, once more!O where so long hast thou been wandering?Thou comest to me like the gales ...
Sweet to the gay of heart is Summer's smile,Sweet the wild music of the laughing Spring;But ah! my soul far ...
Within my infant breast paternal careThe living seed of young devotion planted,And watched and watered it—and prayed and panted,That it ...
Four Seasons fill the measure of the year; There are four seasons in the mind of man: He has his lusty Spring, ...
Month which the warring ancients strangely styledThe month of war,—as if in their fierce waysWere any month of peace!—in thy ...
There is strange music in the stirring wind,When lowers the autumnal eve, and all aloneTo the dark wood's cold covert ...
Still lie the sheltering snows, undimmed and white;And reigns the winter's pregnant silence still;No sign of spring, save that the ...
O MAGIC music of the Spring,-Across the morning's breezy meadsI hear the south wind in the reeds,I hear the golden ...
Come walk with me along this willowed lane,Where, like lost coinage from some miser's store,The golden dandelions more and moreGlow, ...
Life is a dream. No need to stir. Remembering this I'm drunk all day. Lying helpless beside the porch, Waking to see the ...
I LET my soul drift with the thistledown Afloat upon the honeymooning breeze;My thoughts about the swelling buds are blown, Blown with ...
As pants the hart for cooling streams,When heated in the chase,So longs my soul, O God, for TheeAnd Thy refreshing ...
The bush that has most briers and bitter fruitWaits till the frost has turned its green leaves red,Its sweetened berries ...
once again springcatches us by surprise, sudden implacablewhere is thatsweet smell coming from, I find it: the poplar'sgreen buds, openingallthe ...
Filled with a quiet sadness nigh to tears,When tears come fresh from no ungentle spring,Beside this stream, whose tongue runs ...
SHE did not go, as others do, With backward look and beckoning; With no farewell for anythingShe passed the open doorway through.The ...
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