Isabella Valancy Crawford

  • From “Malcolm’s Katie”
    HIGH grew the snow beneath the low-hung sky,
    And all was silent in the wilderness;
    In trance of stillness Nature heard her God
    Rebuilding her spent fires, and veiled her face
    While the Great Worker brooded o’er His work.


  • He stood beside her in the dawn--
    And she his Dawn and she his Spring.
    From her bright palm she fed her fawn,
    Her swift eyes chased the swallow's wing;
    Her restless lips, smile-haunted, cast
    Shrill silver calls to hound and dove;
    Her young locks...

  • Of all the spots for making love,
    Give me a shady dairy,
    With crimson tiles, and blushing smiles
    From its presiding fairy;
    The jolly sunbeams peeping in
    Thro' vine leaves all a-flutter,
    Like greetings sent from Phoebus to
    The Goddess of Fresh...

  • When Spring in sunny woodland lay,
    And gilded buds were sparely set
    On oak tree and the thorny may,
    I gave my love a violet.
    "O Love," she said, and kissed my mouth
    With one light, tender maiden kiss,
    "There are no rich blooms in the south