The Lover's Year-Book of Poetry; A Collection of Love Poems for Every Day in the Year the Other Life Volume 1

The Lover's Year-Book of Poetry; A Collection of Love Poems for Every Day in the Year the Other Life Volume 1

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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1896 edition. Excerpt: ... is Winter yet. I know a time shall be, When, for our sweet delight, The pretty pageantry Of April shall unfold The herald violet, With purple banneret; Gay king-cups, bravely dight In shining cloth of gold; And, dancing in the breeze, Virgin anemones. Ah me! 't is Winter yet. I know a time shall beK When, on my longing ear, Your voice, a melody Of silver strings, shall sound. And charm away the fret Your absence doth beget; When Love shall cast out fear, In chains eternal bound, And, coming to his own, Raise in our hearts his throne. Ah me! 't is Winter yet. I know a time shall be, When all, save Love, shall fail; That dim futurity When we, Dear Heart, must stand Where life and death are met. May there be no regret As down the stream we sail Toward the shadowy land Where, crowned with asphodels, Springtime forever dwells. Ah me!'t is Winter yet! flRarrij THE WEEK SHE DIED. CHE came and leaned against my tired knees, And questioned me of this and then of that; Asked if the dark was made to hide the light, And if the little stars were round or flat. I felt I had so many troubling cares And worried thoughts, that I could not abide Her restless motions and her tireless tongue; Ah me, that was the very week she died. It seems to-night, as silently I sit, Nothing would rest me like her leaning form; And if she gayly sprang and clasped my neck, I should not think her arms too close and warm. I might have answered her more patiently, And borne her noisy glee. Oh, I have cried, Thinking of all the things I might have done That would have made her glad the week she died. The snow is cold above her little grave, --Above the little feet and dear young head! The spring-time sun will shine, and warm, and bless, --Alas, alas, it cannot reach my dead. The birds...show more

Product details

  • Paperback | 46 pages
  • 189 x 246 x 3mm | 100g
  • Rarebooksclub.com
  • Miami Fl, United States
  • English
  • black & white illustrations
  • 1236550323
  • 9781236550323