London_Girl
Age: 124
6857 days old here
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Sundown
THE summer sun is sinking low; Only the tree-tops redden and glow: Only the weathercock on the spire Of the neighboring church is a flame of fire; All is in shadow below.
O beautiful, awful summer day, What hast thou given, what taken away? Life and death, and love and hate, Homes made happy or desolate, Hearts made sad or gay!
On the road of life one mile-stone more! In the book of life one leaf turned o'er! Like a red seal is the setting sun On the good and the evil men have done,-- Naught can to-day restore!
London_Girl
Age: 124
6857 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls
THE tide rises, the tide falls, The twilight darkens, the curlew calls; Along the sea-sands damp and brown The traveller hastens toward the town And the tide rises, the tide falls.
Darkness settles on the roofs and walls But the sea, the sea in darkness calls; The little waves, with their soft, white hands, Efface the footprints in the sands And the tide rises, the tide falls.
The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls; The day returns, but nevermore Returns the traveller to the shore, And the tide rises, the tide falls.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6857 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
The Sound of the Sea
THE sea awoke at midnight from its sleep, And round the pebbly beaches far and wide I heard the first wave of the rising tide Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep; A voice out of the silence of the deep, A sound mysteriously multiplied As of a cataract from the mountain's side, Or roar of winds upon a wooded steep. So comes to us at times, from the unknown And inaccessible solitudes of being, The rushing of the sea-tides of the soul; And inspirations, that we deem our own, Are some divine foreshadowing and foreseeing Of things beyond our reason or control.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6857 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Changed
FROM the outskirts of the town, Where of old the mile-stone stood, Now a stranger, looking down I behold the shadowy crown Of the dark and haunted wood.
Is it changed, or am I changed? Ah! the oaks are fresh and green, But the friends with whom I ranged Through their thickets are estranged By the years that intervene.
Bright as ever flows the sea, Bright as ever shines the sun, But alas! they seem to me Not the sun that used to be, Not the tides that used to run.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6857 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Snow-Flakes
OUT of the bosom of the Air Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken, Over the woodlands brown and bare, Over the harvest-fields forsaken, Silent, and soft, and slow Descends the snow.
Even as our cloudy fancies take Suddenly shape in some divine expression, Even as the troubled heart doth make In the white countenance confession The troubled sky reveals The grief it feels.
This is the poem of the air, Slowly in silent syllables recorded; This is the secret of despair, Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded, Now whispered and revealed To wood and field.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6857 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
The Reaper And The Flowers
THERE is a Reaper whose name is Death, And, with his sickle keen, He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between.
``Shall I have nought that is fair?'' saith he; ``Have nought but the bearded grain? Though the breath of these flowers is sweet to me, I will give them all back again.''
He gazed at the flowers with tearful eyes, He kissed their drooping leaves; It was for the Lord of Paradise He bound them in his sheaves.
``My Lord has need of these flowerets gay,'' The Reaper said, and smiled; ``Dear tokens of the earth are they, Where he was once a child.
``They shall all bloom in fields of light, Transplanted by my care, And saints, upon their garments white, These sacred blossoms wear.''
And the mother gave, in tears and pain, The flowers she most did love; She knew she should find them all again In the fields of light above.
O, not in cruelty, not in wrath, The Reaper came that day; 'Twas an angel visited the green earth, And took the flowers away.
London_Girl
Age: 124
6857 days old here
Total Posts: 18948
Points: 0
Location:
United Kingdom, United Kingdom
Hiawatha's Departure from The Song of Hiawatha
BY the shore of Gitchie Gumee, By the shining Big-Sea-Water, At the doorway of his wigwam, In the pleasant Summer morning, Hiawatha stood and waited. All the air was full of freshness, All the earth was bright and joyous, And before him through the sunshine, Westward toward the neighboring forest Passed in golden swarms the Ahmo, Passed the bees, the honey-makers, Burning, singing in the sunshine. Bright above him shown the heavens, Level spread the lake before him; From its bosom leaped the sturgeon, Aparkling, flashing in the sunshine; On its margin the great forest Stood reflected in the water, Every tree-top had its shadow, Motionless beneath the water. From the brow of Hiawatha Gone was every trace of sorrow, As the fog from off the water, And the mist from off the meadow. With a smile of joy and triumph, With a look of exultation, As of one who in a vision Sees what is to be, but is not, Stood and waited Hiawatha.
