The Isle of Doom, by Clinton Scollard
Out of the mist off Galway shore,
Out of the ...
Plant Poems
The Lady Blanchiflore, by Clinton Scollard
The lovely Lady Blanchiflore
Had scores of lov...
Midsummer Song, by Clinton Scollard
Dawnings of amber and amethyst eves;
Soft in ...
The Mill on the Yare, by Clinton Scollard
One with legend and the past;
Every beam and ...
Music, by Clinton Scollard
There is an organ in my elm
A harp within my m...
On Caragh Lake, by Clinton Scollard
I On Caragh lake the evening light
Is violet ...
Sylvia in the Springtime, by Clinton Scollard
Voice of the youth of the year,
Wren song and...
There's Necromancy Still, by Clinton Scollard
There's necromancy still!
The rathe marsh-mari...
The Warden, by Clinton Scollard
June's blossom-garden
Hath the red rose for wa...
The Way of the Cross, by Clinton Scollard
Where the wild sea-mew flocks and flees,
And ...
The Azalea, by Coventry Patmore
There, where the sun shines first
Against our...
The Orchard-Pit, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Piled deep below the screening apple-branch
Th...
Living: After a Death, by Dinah Craik
LIVE!
(Thus seems it we should say to our belo...
To a Beautiful Woman, by Dinah Craik
Surely, dame Nature made you in some dream
Of...
Night, by Dollie Radford
And art thou come again, Oh Night;
I know th...
The Suicide, by Dugald Moore
The mist is on the mountain, and the moon
Wal...
Autumn and the Afterglow, by Edith Matilda Thomas
I When the far woods a misty veil assume
(The...
The Bitter-Sweet of Spring, by Edith Matilda Thomas
I Now is the tender moment of the year
When b...
The Enchanted Ring, by Edith Matilda Thomas
A Tale of Halloween I You ask me for a tale o...
The Little Brown Bat, by Edith Matilda Thomas
Quoth the little brown bat: "I rise with the ow...
The Naturalist, by Edith Matilda Thomas
He bides at home, and treasures all
That to h...
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 ...
Balder the Beautiful, by Edith Willis Linn Forbes
Now stirs the sap in the elm and the maple,
T...
A Dream, by Edith Willis Linn Forbes
The world had long been sleeping;
The earth w...