Category: Poetry
If be it so--by chance--this little book should claim for me a friend, who, sometime, when I’m far away, shall search and find a bit of rosemary, swept through with light, and scatter it among the grasses where I sleep,
If be it so--by chance--this little book should claim for me a friend, who, sometime, when I’m far away, shall search and find a bit of rosemary, swept through with light, and s...
2. Part 2O the huddle of the waters, O the babble of the brine, And the swing and tip and dip that sets you free; With this sad old world behind us, and the top-sail dripping wine, O the...
3. Part 3Ever the witch in a school-girl’s eyes, The toss and the flutter of flaxen hair, The titter, and blush of a rosy cheek, Are calling away from a world of care.