Poems by George Houghton

Poems by George Houghton

York-Harbor, by George Houghton

Below this spire, a town,
Where, truant from the city dials, come
The lazy hours to lose th...

Rest, by George Houghton

I love this old, red house,
Where many a summer night I've lain at ease
Behind that upper win...

Restlessness, by George Houghton

Weary with waiting, we climb to the hill-tops nearest to heaven,
Find only floating fogs, and...

Sandy Hook, by George Houghton

White sand and cedars; cedars, sand;
Light-houses here and there; a strand
Strewn o'er with d...

Scarred, by George Houghton

Far nobler the sword that is nicked and worn,
Far fairer the flag that is grimy and torn,

The Sea-Shore, by George Houghton

To sit on the sand and read fine tales,
To follow the slant of the whitened sails,
And the cl...

The Shepherdess, by George Houghton

A hill of heather 'gainst a yellow sky;
And on its top, as on a buttress high,
A shape, a m...

The Summer Storm, by George Houghton

In a scurry of clouds
Sudden day fell,
What ho! Ye swallows!
All is not well.   With br...

The Tzigans' Pot, by George Houghton

I I am the Tzigans' pot;
I have come from a far-away no-man's-land,
Hung heavy in many a swa...

Yesterday, by George Houghton

While King Karl at midnight feasted,
Sudden, springing from his chair,
With clenched hand he...

Wynhilda, by George Houghton

I Thou shalt not whimper, daughter mine!
No selfish season this for sighs!
There are kine to ...

The Winter Court at Nidaros, by George Houghton

Long were the night-times on that slip of shore,
Hedged in on one hand by the snow-capped hills...

The Witch of York, by George Houghton

Up o'er the hill and broken wall
There stole a weird form, bent but tall;
And softly through ...

The Three Poplars, by George Houghton

A picture from Normandy. Three of them--lithe Lombard poplars--
Stand half wading in the brook,...

The Nest in the Haw, by George Houghton

I A haw, with branches of bloom;
And a bird on the topmost,
Sitting and swinging,
And mer...