Category: Poetry

Poems

They called him mad,--the poor, old man, Whose white hair, worn and thin, Fell o'er his shoulders, as he played His cherished violin, Forever drawing to and fro O'er silent strings a loosened bow.

Chapters

8. Chapter 8

Hear you that music, half song and half sigh? Sylph-like Undine is making reply:-- "Though I so motionless sit here above, I am not deaf to thy pleadings of love; Others regard...

10. Chapter 10

Son of the race that gave the world its best, Of ancient Greece a noble type thou art,-- An Attic spirit transferred to the West, The blood of Hellas pulsing at thy heart; In ho...

4. Chapter 4

But still in the solar warmth I wait, The hand of my lov'd one clasped in mine; Is that a tear? It is growing late, And she asks how long the sun will shine.

2. Chapter 2

When o'er the agèd lion steals The instinct of approaching death, Whose numbing grasp he vaguely feels In trembling limbs and labored breath, He shuns the garish light of day, A...

7. Chapter 7

But still they bravely tried to smile, --So warm the sun, so fair the scene!-- They could be happy yet a while, Ere death's cold shadow crept between; And music's softly rhythmi...

9. Chapter 9

The day declines, the colors pale, The peaks will soon be ashen gray; Yet, though the shades of night prevail, The darkness hath not come to stay; And if no leaves of gold remai...

3. Chapter 3

An hour since, a torrid heat Oppressed the languid frame; The wind was as the khamseen's breath, The solar touch seemed flame; But now the air rejuvenates, The breeze refreshmen...

5. Chapter 5

Dreary fog and drizzling sleet, And a lamp-lit track of slime; Phantoms dim in the misty street, Vanishing, streaked with grime; Overhead in a spurious night, Formed by the vapo...

1. Chapter 1

They called him mad,--the poor, old man, Whose white hair, worn and thin, Fell o'er his shoulders, as he played His cherished violin, Forever drawing to and fro O'er silent stri...

6. Chapter 6

Obermais! Obermais! Charming bit of Paradise, Where the palm and snow are blended, Where life's joys seem never ended, Where the purl of limpid streams Haunts the traveller's de...

11. Chapter 11

She paused, and from her lips a stifled moan Revealed the torture that her soul had known. Her father noted it, and with a sigh Of self-reproach attempted a reply;-- "Dear child...