Robert Burns Wilson

Poems (6)

• Ballad of the Faded Field

  Broad bars of sunset-slanted gold / Are laid along the field, and here …

• It Is in Winter That We Dream of Spring

  It is in Winter that we dream of Spring; / For all the barren bleakness and the cold, …

• Such Is the Death the Soldier Dies

  such is the death the soldier dies: / He falls,—the column speeds away; …

• The Dead Player

  Sure and exact,—the master’s quiet touch, / Thus perfect, was his art; …

• The Sunrise of the Poor

  A darkened hut outlined against the sky, / A forward-looking slope,—some cedar trees, …

• To a Crow

  Bold, amiable, ebon outlaw, grave and wise! / For many a good green year hast thou withstood— …