"Tis strange indeed to hear us plead
For selling and for buying
23 lines
O eloquent and caustic sage!
Thy long and rugged pilgrimage
33 lines
The moon hangs limp in a lusty sky And trysts with the evening star,
8 lines
Neber min' what's in your cran'um
So your collar's high an' true.
33 lines
Out of the silence
I come to you,
12 lines
Day passeth day in sunshine or shadow,
Night unto night each cycle is told;
20 lines
The little child crosses the street--
Why does she wave to me?
12 lines
Sister, when at the grassy mound I stand
Which holds in cold embrace thy mortal frame,
11 lines
O why are there eyes like these,
That sparkle and dapple and tease,
15 lines
Were you to come,
With your clear, gray eyes
24 lines
Old memories come trooping down
The vistas of the years;
16 lines
O, Little David, play on your harp,
That ivory harp with the golden strings
42 lines
I sometimes wonder if the mighty God
Cares aught about the little deeds of men;
14 lines
The slender moon in its silvery sheen,
The golden stars with the blue between
8 lines
Love is the soothing voice of gods
To which men ever list.
4 lines
Blue eyes, gray eyes,
All the eyes that be,
8 lines
From your life's blood to coin a trenchant word--
The past, the present and the future's ken
4 lines
There is naught in the pathless reach
Of the pale, blue sky above,
12 lines
I would not tarry if I could be gone
Adown the path where calls my eager mind.
14 lines
Never again the sight of her?
Never her winsome smile
16 lines
I have found joy,
Surcease from sorrow,
16 lines
They shall go down unto Life's Borderland,
Walk unafraid within that Living Hell,
14 lines
Forget?
Ah, never!
18 lines
Old November, sere and brown,
Clothes the country, haunts the town,
23 lines
Sunless days and starless nights
Bearing fruits of wrack and pain,
8 lines, 1 comment
Never shall I die
While this untrammeled spirit-mine
4 lines
Old Moloch walks the way tonight
On Flander's poppied field,
16 lines
Now with the dust that bore him he is one,
Silent, into into earth's silent maw ye laid him.
14 lines
On such a day as this I think,
On such a day as this,
8 lines
I plucked a rose from out a bower fair,
That overhung my garden seat;
16 lines
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