May-Day (Ralph Waldo Emerson Poems)
Daughter of Heaven and Earth, coy Spring,With sudden passion languishing,Maketh all things softly smile,Painteth pictures mile on mile,Holds a cup ...
Daughter of Heaven and Earth, coy Spring,With sudden passion languishing,Maketh all things softly smile,Painteth pictures mile on mile,Holds a cup ...
A JOURNAL.DEDICATED TO MY FELLOW-TRAVELLERS IN AUGUST, 1858.Wise and polite,--and if I drewTheir several portraits, you would ownChaucer had no ...
I.Low and mournful be the strain,Haughty thought be far from me;Tones of penitence and pain,Moanings of the tropic sea;Low and ...
Mine are the night and morning,The pits of air, the gulf of space,The sportive sun, the gibbous moon,The innumerable days.I ...
I do not count the hours I spendIn wandering by the sea;The forest is my loyal friend,Like God it useth ...
Mortal mixed of middle clay,Attempered to the night and day,Interchangeable with things,Needs no amulets nor rings.Guy possessed the talismanThat all ...
This is he, who, felled by foes, Sprung harmless up, refreshed by blows He to captivity was sold, But him ...
Give to barrows, trays, and pansGrace and glimmer of romance;Bring the moonlight into noonHid in gleaming piles of stone;On the ...
The sun set, but set not his hope:Stars rose; his faith was earlier up:Fixed on the enormous galaxy,Deeper and older ...
ALL day the waves assailed the rock, I heard no church-bell chime;The sea-beat scorns the minster clock And breaks the glass of ...
Thousand minstrels woke within me, "Our music's in the hills; "- Gayest pictures rose to win me, Leopard-colored rills. Up!-If ...
The green grass is growing, The morning wind is in it, 'Tis a tune worth the knowing, Though it change ...
The Sphynx is drowsy, Her wings are furled, Her ear is heavy, She broods on the world.? "Who'll tell me ...
Knows he who tills this lonely field To reap its scanty corn, What mystic fruit his acres yield At midnight ...
The Sphinx is drowsy, Her wings are furled: Her ear is heavy, She broods on the world. "Who'll tell me ...
I love thy music, mellow bell, I love thine iron chime, To life or death, to heaven or hell, Which ...
Venus, when her son was lost, Cried him up and down the coast, In hamlets, palaces, and parks, And told ...
Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, Bring ...
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