The Bitter-Sweet of Spring, by Edith Matilda Thomas
I Now is the tender moment of the year
When b...
Bird Poems
The Dark Before Dawn, by Edith Matilda Thomas
Oh, mystery of the morning gloam,
Of haunted...
Dead Low Tide, by Edith Matilda Thomas
It is dead low tide, and the wasted sea beats ...
The Life of a Bird, by Edith Matilda Thomas
Thou art clothed on with plumes, as with leave...
The Little Brown Bat, by Edith Matilda Thomas
Quoth the little brown bat: "I rise with the ow...
Nature and Man, by Edith Matilda Thomas
Oh, the glance of the dew! Oh, the flame of t...
On the Eve of Sleep, by Edith Matilda Thomas
What is softer than two snowflakes meeting
In ...
Thefts of the Morning, by Edith Matilda Thomas
Bund us the Morning, mother of the stars
And ...
The Witch's Child, by Edith Matilda Thomas
'Tis Elfinell--a witch's child,
From holy min...
The Young of Spring, by Edith Matilda Thomas
There are so many, many young!
So many, in t...
Bluebird, by Edith Willis Linn Forbes
Bright bird on yonder dreary, leafless tree,
...
Contoocook River, by Edith Willis Linn Forbes
Fair Contoocook, singing river,
Flowing over...
A Dream, by Edith Willis Linn Forbes
The world had long been sleeping;
The earth w...
A Landscape in Oils, by Edith Willis Linn Forbes
Though autumn, yet you somehow feel
That blue...
November, by Edith Willis Linn Forbes
Lush summer had her lavish treasure hurled
On ...
The Bird at Greenwood, by Edna Dean Proctor
From the grave of a lovely maiden
A white cros...
The Bluebird, by Edna Dean Proctor
I am so blithe and glad today!
At morn I heard...
In Dreams, by Edna Dean Proctor
My love, my love, when falls the summer rain
...
The Mississippi, by Edna Dean Proctor
Down the silent Mississippi, with his saintly ...
Elegy, by Edna St. Vincent Millay
Let them bury your big eyes
In the secret eart...
God's World, by Edna St. Vincent Millay
O world, I cannot hold thee close enough!
Thy...
An Arizona Cactus, by Edward Robeson Taylor
The burning sun has scorched the rainless groun...
Beauty, by Edward Robeson Taylor
AFTER FERNAND GREGH This eve dream brims my he...
A Cemetery in France, by Edwin Curran
Dawn takes the everlasting skies
And shoulders...
Courtship, by Edwin Curran
I love her--so life is dawn;
I love her and l...