Who is Elizabeth Stoddard

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Elizabeth Stoddard Poems

  • Zanthon'my Friend
    I, knight-at-arms, in my own forest lost!
    Count of the empire, heir to crags and caves,
    And brother to the eagle and the fox!
    The music of the thunder, and the wind...
  • You Left Me
    You left me, and the anguish passed,
    And passed the day, and passed the night-
    A blank in which my senses failed;
    Then slowly came an inward light....
  • Why?
    Why did I go where roses grew,
    And meadow larks which skyward flew
    From grasses sparkling in the dew,
    The yellow sunshine pouring through?...
  • We Must Wait
    The testimony of my loss and gain
    Will I give utterance to, though none may hear.
    When long ago, bereft of all I loved,
    I sought in Nature recompense, implored...
  • Vers De Societe
    This chain of white arms round the room-
    The demon waltz-bewilders me:
    Or am I drunk with this good wine?
    Vive la compagnie!...
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Top 10 most used topics by Elizabeth Stoddard

Night 32 Sea 28 Long 19 Heart 19 Love 17 I Love You 17 Wild 15 Deep 15 World 15 Sweet 14

Elizabeth Stoddard Quotes

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Comments about Elizabeth Stoddard

  • Usfanthropology: congratulations to our spring 2021 ma graduates, who will be honored at commencement this weekend! john blackburn michaela inks timothy lomberk caroline maclean lucio reyes adam sax elizabeth southard theresa stoddard colette witcher jaime zolik jordan wright
  • Literaryrob: on the birth of elizabeth drew barstow, may 6, 1823, future author and wife of richard henry stoddard, and her novel that earned a vicious review from henry james --
  • Book_addict: happy birthday to writer and poet elizabeth stoddard (may 6,1823), author of “the morgesons: a novel” (1862) et al.
  • Returnshadows: word to the wise: do not f**k with elizabeth collins-stoddard!
  • Loveleighgirl: 4 of 5 stars to the morgesons by elizabeth stoddard
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Poem of the day

Dante Gabriel Rossetti Poem
A Prayer
 by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

LADY, in thy proud eyes
There is a weary look,
As if the spirit we know through them
Were daunted with rebuke
To think that the heart of man henceforth
Is read like a read book.
Lady, in thy lifted face
The solitude is sore;

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