William Roscoe Thayer

  • Oh, it ’s twenty gallant gentlemen
      Rode out to hunt the deer,
    With mirth upon the silver horn
      And gleam upon the spear;
    They galloped through the meadow-grass,
      They sought the forest’s gloom,
    And loudest rang Sir Morven’s laugh,
      And...

  • Honest stradivari made men:
    With the gift of love he blest me;
    Once, delight, a master played me,
    Love awoke when he caressed me!

    Oh the deep, ecstatic burning!
    Oh the secrets low and tender!
    Oh the passion and the yearning
    At our love’s...

  • Climbing up the hillside beneath the summer stars
      I listen to the murmur of the drowsy ebbing sea;
    The newly-risen moon has loosed her silver zone
      On the undulating waters where the ships are sailing free.

    O moon, and O stars, and O drowsy summer sea....

  • Oh, it ’s twenty gallant gentlemen
      Rode out to hunt the deer,
    With mirth upon the silver horn
      And gleam upon the spear;
    They galloped through the meadow-grass,
      They sought the forest’s gloom,
    And loudest rang Sir Moven’s laugh,
      And...