A Far-Off Rose

O Far-off rose of long ago,
An hour of sweet, an hour of red,
To live, to breathe, and then to go
Into the dark ere June was dead!

Why say they: Roses shall return
With every year as years go on?
New springtime and strange bloom, my rose,
And alien June; but thou art gone.

More poems by Josephine Preston Peabody

A Changeling Grateful

Here they give me greeting,
House me warm within,
Break their bread and share it …
A Song of Solomon

King solomon was the wisest man
Of all that have been kings.
He built an House unto the Lord; …
After Music

I Saw not they were strange, the ways I roam,
Until the music called, and called me thence,
And tears stirred in my heart as tears may come …
Caravans

What bring ye me, O camels, across the southern desert,
The wan and parching desert, pale beneath the dusk?
Ye great slow-moving ones, faithful as care is faithful, …