Day Dream and Even Song (1904)

Frederic Fairchild Sherman

Day Dream and Even Song (1904)
Format
Paperback
Publisher
Kessinger Publishing
Country
United States
Published
24 September 2009
Pages
72
ISBN
9781120186157

Day Dream and Even Song (1904)

Frederic Fairchild Sherman

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: FOR A COPY OF KEATS’S POEMS You taught my eager heart to understand The joyousness of love, and, opening this book, Bade me, as from a casement wide, to look Through it upon the beauty of the land That sun and bloom make bright; and with your hand In mine the friends of Sorrow I forsook To listen to the lyric of the brook Whose songs are writ in water and in sand. There with the lilies white we used to dream The starlit hours of summer evening through, With Keats clear singing and the dulcet stream Flooding our hearts with happiness anew,? A mingled music that must always seem All his, remembering this-gift from you. THE DREAM Serene she sits before the hearth’s bright gold, Her withered cheeks transfigured with the glow, And, pondering the days of long ago, The scroll of memory her eyes behold. Unto her heart it seems, now she is old, That Youth is come again, as if the snow Of years had vanished leaving her to know The Spring, and see its loveliness unfold. The wreath of age rests lightly on the brow Where once the bridal roses breathed above Her girlish rapture in the fragrant air; She hears celestial voices singing now, And back from out the dark her absent Love Returning, smiles to make her dream more fair.MEMORIES Above the busy world at dusk I know Each day an hour of happiness complete, For then I sit within the window-seat And dream of home, and Her, and long ago. The silence in the city far below, The sunset as it glorifies the street, Each to my homesick heart is ever sweet As the soft winds that wander to and fro. There oftentimes the blessed memory Of other days makes glad the dark for me; I hear the happy singing of the birds In bowers of bloom, I breathe the fragrance borne Across the wor…

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