Extreme Unction, by Donald Evans
Across the rotting pads in the lily lake
Her g...
Lily Poems
Marise Kissing Her Shoulders, by Donald Evans
It is Easter morning,
And my beloved, with a...
Ave Maria, by Alfred Austin
I In the ages of Faith, before the day
When ...
Love and Sleep, by Algernon Charles Swinburne
Lying asleep between the strokes of night
I sa...
The Soldier's Mother, by Amanda Theodocia Jones
Awake, little daughter, awake!
The sad moon ...
On a Basin Wherein Venus was Engraved, by Anacreon
What bold hand the sea engraves,
Whilst its u...
The Bluebird, by Andrew Downing
I saw a pretty bluebird, yesterday,
Rocking ...
Three Letters, by Anna Katherine Green
I FROM HIM TO HER Sweet, when I gave m...
Angels' Visits, by Anne S. Bushby
A NIGHT SCENE. The midnight hour had struck, ...
The Bee, by Arthur Guiterman
Little chemic-artisan,
Doing work no other ca...
Halloween, by Arthur Peterson
Out I went into the meadow,
Where the moon w...
At Glan-Y-Wern, by Arthur Symons
White-robed against the threefold white
Of shu...
Stella Maligna, by Arthur Symons
My little slave!
Wouldst thou escape me? Only ...
The Bee, by C. B. Langston
Is it the beauty of the flower,
Its honeyed s...
Youth, by C. B. Langston
Oh happy youth! Season of life most lovely!
Fa...
Flowers in the Market, by Caroline Spencer
To be a slave, if Love were always keeper,
W...
Love Songs, by Carolyn Crosby Wilson
I There are some things too wonderful to tell:...
Vain Vows, by Charles Guérin
THIS winter night is odorous of spring.
Dreami...
The Permian Beds of Texas, by Charles Hazelius Sternberg
In Texas, where the Wichita
Enrodes a gash, ...
To the Aurora Borealis, by Christopher Pearse Cranch
Arctic found of holiest light,
Springing thro...
A La Mode, by Clara Marcelle Farrar Greene
I One loved her for her beauteous face,
Oh, ...
Ashes of Roses, by Clara Marcelle Farrar Greene
If I had known, dear heart, that thou wouldst...
Lost Art, by Clara Marcelle Farrar Greene
O LIFE profound! Thine opening ways
Lay clear ...
Flight, by Clinton Scollard
Tell me where goes
The wraith that was the ros...
The Lady Blanchiflore, by Clinton Scollard
The lovely Lady Blanchiflore
Had scores of lov...