Love Poems – Page 3147
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The Mother Who Died Too
She was so little—little in her grave, / The wide earth all around so hard and cold— / She was so little! therefore did I crave … -
The Mother's Song
All day and all day, as I sit at my measureless turning, / They come and they go,— / The little ones down on the rocks,—and the sunlight is burning … -
The Mother’s Hope
Is there, when the winds are singing / In the happy summer-time,— / When the raptured air is ringing … -
The Mother’s Sacrifice
The Cold winds swept the mountain’s height, / And pathless was the dreary wild, / And mid the cheerless hours of night … -
The Mountain (Dickinson)
The mountain sat upon the plain / In his eternal chair, / His observation omnifold, … -
The Mountain Fern
Oh, the fern, the fern, the Irish hill fern, / That girds our blue lakes from Lough Ine to Lough Erne, / That waves on our crags like the plume of a king, … -
The Mountain sat upon the Plain
The Mountain sat upon the Plain / In his tremendous Chair — / His observation omnifold, … -
The Mountain to the Pine
Thou tall, majestic monarch of the wood, / That standeth where no wild vines dare to creep, / Men call thee old, and say that thou hast stood … -
The Mountains — grow unnoticed —
The Mountains — grow unnoticed — / Their Purple figures rise / Without attempt — Exhaustion — … -
The Mountains are a Lonely Folk
The mountains they are silent folk / They stand afar—alone, / And the clouds that kiss their brows at night …
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