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Thoughts Post by :nichols74 Category :Poems Author :Margaret Moran D. Mcdougall Date :November 2011 Read :3278

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I am glad when men of genius
Array a common thought,
In imperishable beauty
That it cannot be forgot.

The heart thoughts all bright and burnished
By high poetic art,
As sweet as the wood-bird's warble
Touching the very heart.

Have not I, poor workday mortal,
Some thoughts of living light,
In the spirit's inner chambers,
Moving with spirit might?

And they come in the fair spring time
Of heart and life and year,
When sweet Nature's wild rejoicings,
Draws votaries very near

To the heart of all that's lovely
On earth and in the sky;
Making audible the music
Of the inner melody.

Underlying all the sunshine,
Whispering through every breeze,
As it crests the ruffled ocean
Or sways the forest trees.

Bright thoughts that are heart prisoners
Vibrating on its chords,
For, alas! I have not genius
To bring them forth in words.

But full oft, like friendship's greeting
Upon life's weary way,
Do I meet in other's language
What I most wished to say.

To such words my bosom echoes,
I feel they are my own,
They bright echo of my day dreams,
That else were ever flown.

Ah to think, ye men of genius,
What joy your art affords,
Giving to the thoughts of millions
The dress of glowing words!

And a blessing on these words then
To bear them far and free;
That they glad the hearts of many
As they have gladdened me.

(The end)
Margaret Moran D. McDougall's poem: Thoughts

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To J W To J W

To J W
Dear Jane you say you will gather flowersTo win if you may a verse from meCan you bring to me those brillant hoursWhen life was gladdened by poesy?Bring me the rose with pearls on her breast,Dropped down as tears from early skies,Pale lilies gather among the restAnd little daisies, with starry eyesThe heart's-ease bring for many a dayIn vain for that flow'ret fair I soughtTurn not your gathering hand awayFrom the wee blue flower, forget me notUnless inspiration on them restIn vain you tempt me to rise and singThe passage bird that sang in my breastHas fled away with my life's

Isabel Isabel

(ISABELLA STEWART)Heart of mine, by thy quick beating, Thou knowest Isabel is near,And the gladness of the greeting Dims my eye with rapture's tear.Heart of mine, each beat will tellHow I love young Isabel.When I first beheld the maiden, So fair to see, so sweet to bless,I, a stranger, sorrow laden, Arrested by her loveliness,Then I thought some hand would set,On that brow a coronet.She had grace all hearts beguiling, She had the wealth of silken hair,And sweet lips, half proud, half smiling, Neck of snow and bosom fair,And each eye a sapphire gemFor a