The Unknown God, by Caroline Spencer
Of old the gods were feasted
On music, mirth ...
Bear Poems
A Draught So Precious, by Carolyn Crosby Wilson
A draught so precious you have offered me
I da...
Hurt Not My Heart With Too Much Beauty, Night, by Carolyn Crosby Wilson
Hurt not my heart with too much beauty, night,...
I Found No Beauty In Me Till You Came, by Carolyn Crosby Wilson
I found no beauty in me till you came,
And th...
The Permian Beds of Texas, by Charles Hazelius Sternberg
In Texas, where the Wichita
Enrodes a gash, ...
What They Are Watching, by David Ray
Trinity Site, New Mexico, 5: 30 A.M., July 1...
The Rainbow, by Christopher Pearse Cranch
Child of the sunlight,
Flower of the skies,
...
Foreshadowing, by Clara Marcelle Farrar Greene
I look within thine eyes,
My little child,
...
The Magdalen, by Clara Marcelle Farrar Greene
My beautiful lilies down under the snow,
Hast...
Marah, by Clara Marcelle Farrar Greene
A year ago the moon, as now,
Crossed the sea...
Living: After a Death, by Dinah Craik
LIVE!
(Thus seems it we should say to our belo...
The Aurora Borealis, by Dugald Moore
Are ye unholy shadows, that by fits
Start fro...
The Suicide, by Dugald Moore
The mist is on the mountain, and the moon
Wal...
The Dragons of the Air, by Edith Matilda Thomas
There is a circle of malignant hell
Not given ...
The Enchanted Ring, by Edith Matilda Thomas
A Tale of Halloween I You ask me for a tale o...
The Angel of the Annunciation, by Edith Willis Linn Forbes
A holy angel came one night
With lilies in her...
Helen of Troy, by Edith Willis Linn Forbes
Helen of Troy, hard was thy ruling fate!
Woma...
Memory, by Edith Willis Linn Forbes
Earth's memories pass like sands that run the h...
A Rejected Lover's Thought, by Edith Willis Linn Forbes
One moment I have held her to my breast
And lo...
The Mississippi, by Edna Dean Proctor
Down the silent Mississippi, with his saintly ...
Doubt No More that Oberon, by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Doubt no more that Oberon--
Never doub that Pa...
The Poet and His Book, by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Down, you mongrel, Death!
Back into your ken...
The Suicide, by Edna St. Vincent Millay
"Curse thee, Life, I will live with thee no m...
Weeds, by Edna St. Vincent Millay
White with daisies and red with sorrel
And emp...
The Golden Gate, by Edward Pollock
The air is chill, and the day grows late,
An...