#EnglishWriters
Precious the box that Mary brake Of spikenard for her Master’s sak… But ah! it held nought half so dea… As the sweet dust that whitens her… The greater wonder who shall say:
Saint Charles! ah yes, let other… Love Elia for his antic pen, And watch with dilettante eyes His page for every quaint surprise… Curious of caviare phrase.
The afternoon is lonely for your f… The pampered morning mocks the day… I was so rich at noon, the sun was… Mine the sad sea that in that rock… Girded us round with blue betrotha…
I had no heart to join the dance, I danced it all so long ago– Ah! light-winged music out of Fra… Let other feet glide to and fro, Weaving new patterns of romance
Blue flower waving in the wind, Say whose blue eyes Lift up your swaying fragile stem To the blue skies. Is she a queen that lies asleep
Sometimes my idle heart would roam Far from its quiet happy nest, To seek some other newer home, Some unaccustomed Best: But ere it spreads its foolish win…
The sad nights are here and the sa… The air is filled with portents an… Clouds that vastly loom and winds… A mournful prescience Of bright things going hence;
Dear Heart, this is my book of bo… The changing story of the wanderin… That found at last its ending in t… The love it sought and sang astray… With wild young heart and happy ea…
Surely at last, O Lady, the sweet… That bringeth in the happy singing… Groweth to pearly queendom, and fu… Shall Love and Song go hand in ha… For all the pain that all too long…
Away from the silent hills and the… of upland waters, The high still stars and the lonel… in her quarters, I fly to the city, the streets, th…
Fragoletta, blessed one, What think you of the light of the… Do you think the dark was best, Lying snug in mother’s breast? Ah! I knew that sweetness, too,
(Obiit Nov. 18, 1909) America grows poorer day by day– Richer and richer, I have heard s… They thought of a poor wealth I d… For, one by one, the men who dream…
Give me the lifted skirt, And the brave ways of wrong, The fist, the dagger and the sword… And the out-spoken song. Ah! bring me not the love
An Elegy High on his Patmos of the Souther… Our northern dreamer sleeps, Strange stars above him, and above… Strange leaves and wings their tro…
What shall I sing when all is sun… And every tale is told, And in the world is nothing young That was not long since old? Why should I fret unwilling ears
