Full Online Books
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
Full Online Book HomePoemsIn An Old Garden
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
In An Old Garden Post by :SlikvikGG Category :Poems Author :Madison Julius Cawein Date :September 2011 Read :1047

Click below to download : In An Old Garden (Format : PDF)

In An Old Garden

The Autumn pines and fades
Upon the withered trees;
And over there, a choked despair,
You hear the moaning breeze.

The violets are dead;
Dead the tall hollyhocks,
That hang like rags on the wind-crushed flags,
And the lilies' livid stocks.

The wild gourd clambers free
Where the clematis was wont;
Where nenuphars waxed thick as stars
Rank weeds stagnate the font.

Yet in my dreams I hear
A tinkling mandolin;
In the dark blue light of a fragrant night
Float in and out and in.

And the dewy vine that climbs
To my lady's lattice sways,
And behind the vine there come to shine
Two pleasant eyes and gaze.

And now a perfume comes,
A swift Favonian gust;
And the shrinking grass where it doth pass
Bows slave-like to the dust.

In dreams I see her drift
A mist of drapery;
In her jeweled shawl divinely tall,
A Dian deity.

The moon broods high and full
O'er the broken Psyche cold,
And there she stands her dainty hands
And thin wrists warm with gold.

But lovers now are dead,
The air is stung with frosts;
And naught may you find save the homeless wind,
Dead violets' ghosts and ghosts.

(The end)
Madison Julius Cawein's poem: In An Old Garden

If you like this book please share to your friends :

Song (unto The Portal Of The House Of Song) Song (unto The Portal Of The House Of Song)

Song (unto The Portal Of The House Of Song)
Unto the portal of the House of Song,Symbols of wrong and emblems of unrest,And mottoes of despair and envious jest,And stony masks of scorn and hate belong.Who enters here shall feel his soul deniedAll welcome: lo! the chiselled form of Love,That stares in marble on the shrine aboveThe tomb of Beauty he dreamed and died!Who enters here shall know no poppyflowersOf Rest, or harp-tones of serene Content;Only sad ghosts of music and of scentShall mock the mind with their remembered powers.Here must he wait till striving patience carvesHis name upon the century-storied floor;His heart's blood staining one dim pane the

'the Fairy Rade' "the Fairy Rade"

'the Fairy Rade'
I. Ai me! why stood I on the bent When Summer wept o'er dying June! I saw the Fairy Folk ride faint Aneath the moon. II. The haw-trees hedged the russet lea Where cuckoo-buds waxed rich with gold; The wealthy corn rose yellowly Endlong the wold.