Thomas Lake Harris

  • Sea-Sleep

          sleep, sleep, sleep
    In thy folded waves, O Sea!
        Till the quiet breathings creep,
    With a low-voiced melody,
        Out of the glimmering deep.
    For sleep is the close of life;
        ’T is the end of love, and its birth;
    ’T is the...

  • Fledglings

    Why should we waste and weep?
        The Summers weave
    A nest of blossoms deep.
        Sad hearts, why grieve?
    We downy birdlings are
        Unfledged for flight:
    God’s love-wind woos afar;
        Its name, Delight.

    From arcades vast and dim...

  • California

    The grecian MUSE, to earth who bore
      Her goblet filled with wine of gold,
    Dispersed the frown that Ages wore
      Upon their foreheads grim and cold,
      What time the lyric thunders rolled.

    O’er this new Eden of the West
      The mightier Muse...