Song II
ALL my heart is stirring lightly
Like dim violets winter-bound,
Quickening as they feel the brightly
Glowing sunlight underground.
Yea, this drear and silent bosom,
Hushed as snow-hid grove but now,
Breaketh into leaf and blossom
Like a gleaming vernal bough.
Oh the singing, singing, singing!
Callow hopes that thrill my breast!
Can the lark of love be winging
Back to its abandoned nest?
poem by Mathilde Blind
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
All My Heart Is Stirring Lightly
All my heart is stirring lightly
Like dim violets winter-bound,
Quickening as they feel the brightly
Glowing sunlight underground.
Yea, this drear and silent bosom,
Hushed as snow-hid grove but now,
Breaketh into leaf and blossom
Like a gleaming vernal bough.
Oh the singing, singing, singing!
Callow hopes that thrill my breast!
Can the lark of love be winging
Back to its abandoned nest?
poem by Mathilde Blind
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Song I
OH haste while roses bloom below,
Oh haste while pale and bright above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
To pluck the rose of love.
Yea, give the morning to the lark,
The nightingale its glimmering grove,
Give moonlight to the hungry dark,
But to man's heart give love!
Then haste while still the roses blow,
And pale and bright in heaven above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
Pluck, pluck the rose of love.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
A Spring Song
Dark sod pierced by flames of flowers,
Dead wood freshly quickening,
Bright skies dusked with sudden showers,
Lit by rainbows on the wing.
Cuckoo calls and young lambs' bleating,
Nimble airs which coyly bring
Little gusts of tender greeting
From shy nooks where violets cling.
Half-fledged buds and birds and vernal
Fields of grass dew-glistening;
Evanescent life's eternal
Resurrection, bridal Spring!
poem by Mathilde Blind
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Rose D'Amour
Oh haste while roses bloom below,
Oh haste while pale and bright above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
To pluck the rose of love.
Yea, give the morning to the lark,
The nightingale its glimmering grove,
Give moonlight to the hungry dark,
But to man's heart give love!
Then haste while still the roses blow,
And pale and bright in heaven above
The sun and moon alternate glow,
Pluck, pluck the rose of love.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Love's Phantom
SHUT out day's wintry beams!
Sleep, brood upon my brain!
For sweet sleep bringeth dreams
And love again!
Love cold and wan and sere
Heaped over with tears and snows;
Lo, born within its bier,
Blooms like a rose!
Its fragrance fills each vein,
Its fervour flushes my heart,
I feel through breast and brain
Its rapturous smart;
The look, the tone, the deep
Supreme smile of delight:
Ah, fickle as love, false sleep,
Why take thy flight?
poem by Mathilde Blind
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
I Am Athirst, But Not For Wine
I am athirst, but not for wine;
The drink I long for is divine,
Poured only from your eyes in mine.
I hunger, but the bread I want,
Of which my blood and brain are scant,
Is your sweet speech, for which I pant.
I am a-cold, and lagging lame,
Life creeps along my languid frame;
Your love would fan it into flame.
Heaven's in that little word--your love!
It makes my heart coo like a dove,
My tears fall as I think thereof.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Brown Eyes
Oh, brown Eyes with long black lashes,
Young brown Eyes,
Depths of night from which there flashes
Lightning as of summer skies,
Beautiful brown Eyes!
In your veiled mysterious splendour
Passion lies
Sleeping, but with sudden tender
Dreams that fill with vague surmise
Beautiful brown Eyes.
All my soul, with yearning shaken,
Asks in sighs--
Who will see your heart awaken,
Love's divine sunrise
In those young brown Eyes?
poem by Mathilde Blind
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
On A Letter
I.
SUNBEAMS can fling no purer brightness o'er the sea
And rain-showers bring no surer blessing to the lea,
And lilies wing with no more sweetness the gold bee,
Than those few lines thy hand has penned have brought to me.
II.
Soft lies the silent fall of snow
Upon the hemlock tree;
Soft lies the moonlight's silver flow
Upon the troubled sea.
Sweet on the blossom of the vines
The night-dews drop from high;
But softer, sweeter far, thy lines
Upon my spirit lie.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Cross-Roads
The rain beat in our faces,
And shrill the wild airs grew;
The long-maned clouds in races
Coursed o'er heaven's windy blue.
The tortured trees were lashing
Each other in their wrath,
Their wet leaves wildly dashing
Across the forest path.
We did not heed the sweeping
Of storm-bewildered rain;
Our cheeks were wet with weeping,
Our hearts were wrung with pain.
For where the cross-roads sever,
Parting to East and West,
We bade good-bye for ever,
To what we each loved best.
poem by Mathilde Blind
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!