As one who follows a departing friend,
Destined to cross the great, dividing sea,
I watch and follow these departing days,
That go so grandly, lifting up their crowns
Still regal, though their victor Autumn comes.
Gifts they bestow, which I accept, return...
Elizabeth Stoddard
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I feel the breath of the summer night,
Aromatic fire:
The trees, the vines, the flowers are astir
With tender desire.The white moths flutter about the lamp,
Enamoured with light;
And a thousand creatures softly sing
A... -
Stop on the Appian Way,
In the Roman Campagna;
Stop at my tomb,
The tomb of Cecilia Metella.
To-day as you see it
Alaric saw it, ages ago,
When he, with his pale-visaged Goths,
Sat at the gates of Rome,
Reading his Runic... -
Under a sultry, yellow sky,
On the yellow sand I lie;
The crinkled vapors smite my brain,
I smoulder in a fiery pain.Above the crags the condor flies;
He knows where the red gold lies,
He knows where the diamonds shine;—
If I knew, would... -
in the still, star-lit night,
By the full fountain and the willow-tree,
I walked, and not alone—
A spirit walked with me!A shade fell on the grass;
Upon the water fell a deeper shade:
Something the willow stirred,
For to and fro... -
Now all the flowers that ornament the grass,
Wherever meadows are and placid brooks,
Must fall—the “glory of the grass” must fall.
Year after year I see them sprout and spread,—
The golden, glossy, tossing buttercups,
The tall, straight daisies and red... -
Much have I spoken of the faded leaf;
Long have I listened to the wailing wind,
And watched it ploughing through the heavy clouds,
For autumn charms my melancholy mind.When autumn comes, the poets sing a dirge:
The year must perish; all the... -
The poet’s secret I must know,
If that will calm my restless mind.
I hail the seasons as they go,
I woo the sunshine, brave the wind.I scan the lily and the rose,
I nod to every nodding tree,
I follow every stream that flows,
And...