September 11, 2007 in Nature, Poems | No comments
The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.
The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.
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September 1, 2010 in Poems
Put up my lute! What of — my Music! Since the sole ear I cared to charm – Passive — as Granite — laps My Music – Sobbing — will suit — as well as psalm! Would but the “Memnon” of the Desert – Teach me the strain That vanquished Him – When He — [...]
August 9, 2010 in Poems
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