Tag: Poetry

  “Your eyes that once were never weary of mine Are bowed…

We men of Earth have here the stuff Of Paradise – we…

Nature’s first green is Gold, Her hardest hue to hold. Her early…

The year of the rose is brief; From the first blade blown…

A little Madness in the Spring Is wholesome even for the King,…

Yes, it is her! Oh light here, quick! Let not the knife…

Hot and Cold A woman who my mother knows Came in and…

I think and think: yet still I fail – Why must this…

O NIGHT! the very mother of us all, For from thy hollow…

Death, be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadful,…