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 HomePoemsMarcia
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
Marcia Post by :mkingsley Category :Poems Author :Edgar Lee Masters Date :November 2011 Read :2342

Click below to download : Marcia (Format : PDF)


Madeline's hair is straight and yours
Is just as curly as tendril vines;
And she is fair, but a deeper color
Your cheeks of olive incarnadines.

A serious wisdom burns and glows
Steadily in your dark-eyed look.
Already a wit and a little stoic--
Perhaps you are going to write a book,

Or paint a picture, or sing or act
The part of Katherine or Juliet.
I believe you were born with the gift of knowing
When to remember and when to forget.

And when to stifle and kill a grief,
And clutch your heart when it beats in vain.
The heart that has most strength for feeling
Must have the strength to conquer the pain.

You understand? It seems that you do--
Though you cannot utter a word to me.
Marcia, Marcia, look at Madeline
Building a doll-house under the tree!

(The end)
Edgar Lee Masters's poem: Marcia

If you like this book please share to your friends :

The Altar The Altar

The Altar
My heart is an altar whereon Many sacrificial fires have been kindled In praise of spring and Aphrodite. My heart is an altar of chalcedony, Crowned with a tablet of bronze, Blacked with smoke, scarred with fire, And scented with the aromatic bitterness Of dead incense. Albeit let us murmur a little Doric prayer Over the ashes which lie scattered around the altar; For the April rain has wept over them, And from them the crocus smelts its Roman gold. What though there are remnants here Of faded

Madeline Madeline

I almost heard your little heart Begin to beat, and since that hour Your life has grown apace and blossomed, Fed by the same miraculous power, That moved the rivulet of your life, And made your heart begin to beat. Now all day your steps are a-patter. Oh, what swift and musical feet! You sleep. I wait to see you wake, With wonder-eyes and hands that reach. I laugh to hear your thoughts that gather Too fast on your budding lips for speech. Your sunny hair is cut as