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To Anne On Her Birthday Post by :wruger Category :Poems Author :Margaret Moran D. Mcdougall Date :November 2011 Read :3134

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To Anne On Her Birthday

Let mirth and joy a season reign
And sorrow flee away
Sadness were perfect sin it is
My Anne's natal day

And now a birthday rhyme for her
This sister of my own
Accept the song then for my sake
Sister and only one

So long we've lived together here
Our hopes and fears the same
Like two of autumn's last grown leaves
Last of our race and name

The past we know its grief and joy
Its pleasure and its pain
But know not what may happen ere
Your birthday comes again

Shall we be cradled in the deep
Beneath the briny wave?
Or shall the white deer lightly bound
Over my forest grave?

Or living yet divided far
With lands and seas between
And sorrow reigning in the hearts
Where childhood's joy has been

The future's sealed we know it not
But wander where we will
On this broad earth we shall remain
Lone loving sisters still

(The end)
Margaret Moran D. McDougall's poem: To Anne On Her Birthday

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To Isabel (since Ere I Left My Native Isle) To Isabel (since Ere I Left My Native Isle)

To Isabel (since Ere I Left My Native Isle)
(ISABELLA STEWART)Since ere I left my native isle,My childhood's home, life's happy smileAnd crossed the separating seas,Nothing my lonely heart could pleaseTill now--and oh, I cannot tellHow I admire thee, Isabel!There are, in my dear island green,Most lovely faces to be seen,Beautiful eyes, with kindly glee,Beamed there in laughing love on meNow I'm alone from day to day,They're all three thousand miles away.A stranger's face each face I see,And every eye is cold to me,No friendly voice, no kind caress,No spell to break the loneliness,Until I fell beneath the spellOf thy rare beauty, IsabelI watch thee from my window paneIn hopes

Separation Separation

ELIZABETH TO WALTERHe has come and he has gone, Meeting, parting, both are o'er;And I feel the same dull pain,Aching heart and throbbing brain Coming o'er me once againThat I often felt before.For he is my father's son, And, in childhood's loving timeHe and I so lone, so young,No twin blossoms ever sprung,No twin cherries ever clung, Closer than his heart and mine.He is changed, ah me! ah me! Have we then a different aim?Shall earth's glory or its goldMake his heart to mine grow cold?Or can new love kill the old? Leaving me for