Category: Poetry
_There is no rhyme that is half so sweet As the song of the wind in the rippling wheat; There is no metre that's half so fine As the lilt of the brook under rock and vine; And the loveliest lyric I ever heard Was the wildwood strain of a forest bird.-- If the wind and the broo...
Was it the strain of the waltz that, repeating "Love," so bewitched me? or only the gleam There of the lustres, that set my heart beating, Feeling your presence as one feels a d...
2. Chapter 2Thou, oh, thou! Thou of the chorded shell and golden plectrum! thou Of the dark eyes and pale pacific brow! Music, who by the plangent waves, Or in the echoing night of labyrint...
1. Chapter 1_There is no rhyme that is half so sweet As the song of the wind in the rippling wheat; There is no metre that's half so fine As the lilt of the brook under rock and vine; And t...
4. Chapter 4Yea, why I love thee let my heart unfold: I look into thy heart and then I know The wondrous poetry of the long-ago, The Age of Gold, That speaks strange music, that is old, so...