Poems by Francis Howard Williams

Sleep, my pretty one,
Sleep, my little one,
Rose in the garden is blooming so red;
Over t...

Night falls away and fades along the breeze,
Lost in the turning of diurnal tides,
The mornin...

My Love too stately is to be but fair,
Too fair she is for naught but stateliness;
She bids m...

Ambition's finger beckoned and I ran
With bleeding feet o'er rugged paths and drear,
Spurning ...

Birth and desire and death and birth again.
The purgatory of a deathless soul,
Elusive bubbles...

O! Little mouth, half rounded to a song, --
Swift shuddering with an indrawn lisp of love,
My...

In fallow fields I long to lie--
A bookman lost in Arcady;
Or, steeped in grasses to the knee...

Who builds on Reason builds upon the sand
A fabric mortal as the human brain,
A fetich-temple ...

Tiptoe, with finger at her lip, and rare
Red-rose mouth rounded to a song unsung,
A mute mai...

The blossom and flower
Of Summer, whose power
All other surpasses,
In love ever firmer
Tho'...