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June Longings Post by :creme Category :Poems Author :George Parsons Lathrop Date :July 2011 Read :1678

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June Longings

Lo, all about the lofty blue are blown
Light vapors white, like thistle-down,
That from their softened silver heaps opaque
Scatter delicate flake by flake,
Upon the wide loom of the heavens weaving
Forms of fancies past believing,
And, with fantastic show of mute despair,
As for some sweet hope hurt beyond repair,
Melt in the silent voids of sunny air.

All day the cooing brooklet runs in tune:
Half sunk i' th' blue, the powdery moon
Shows whitely. Hark, the bobolink's note! I hear it,
Far and faint as a fairy spirit!
Yet all these pass, and as some blithe bird, winging,
Leaves a heart-ache for his singing,
A frustrate passion haunts me evermore
For that which closest dwells to beauty's core.
O Love, canst thou this heart of hope restore?

(The end)
George Parsons Lathrop's poem: June Longings

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The Fairhaven Bay The Fairhaven Bay

The Fairhaven Bay
I push on through the shaggy wood,I round the hill: 't is here it stood;And there, beyond the crumbled walls,The shining Concord slowly crawls,Yet seems to make a passing stay,And gently spreads its lilied bay,Curbed by this green and reedy shore,Up toward the ancient homestead's door.But dumbly sits the shattered house,And makes no answer: man and mouseLong since forsook it, and decayChokes its deep heart with ashes gray.On what was once a garden-groundDull red-bloomed sorrels now abound;And boldly whistles the shy quailWithin the vacant pasture's pale.Ah, strange and savage he shines,The sun seems staring through those pinesThat once the vanished

The Sun-shower The Sun-shower

The Sun-shower
A penciled shade the sky doth sweep,And transient glooms creep in to sleep Amid the orchard;Fantastic breezes pull the treesHither and yon, to vagaries Of aspect tortured.Then, like the downcast dreamy fringeOf eyelids, when dim gates unhinge That locked their tears,Falls on the hills a mist of rain,--So faint, it seems to fade again; Yet swiftly nears.Now sparkles the air, all steely-bright,With drops swept down in arrow-flight, Keen, quivering lines.Ceased in a breath the showery sound;And teasingly, now, as I look around, Sweet