Who is Lizette Woodworth Reese
Lizette Woodworth Reese (January 9, 1856 – December 17, 1935) was an American poet and teacher. Born in Maryland, she taught English for almost five decades in the schools of Baltimore. Though Reese was successful in prose as well as in poetry, the latter was her forte; she was named Poet Laureate of Maryland in 1931.She developed, even in her childhood, a strong and vigorous faculty with lyrics. As an adult, her creations were commended by critics in Europe and the United States. In her use of the sonnet, Reese displayed skill and facility of execution. Her sonnet entitled "Tears" was characterized as having a pure John Miltonic note, above all in the preluding lines. This form of verse afforded a rich and stimulating field for Reese's rhythmic and metric capabilities. Among h...
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Lizette Woodworth Reese Poems
- The Good Joan
A long the thousand roads of France,
Now there, and here, swift as a glance,
A cloud, a mist blown down the sky,
Good Joan of Arc goes riding by. ... - A Christmas Folk-song
The little Jesus came to town;
The wind blew up, the wind blew down;
Out in the street the wind was bold;
Now who would house Him from the cold? ... - A Rhyme Of Death's Inn
A rhyme of good Death's inn!
My love came to that door;
And she had need of many things,
The way had been so sore. ... - Thomas à? Kempis
Brother of mine, good monk with cowlëd head,
Walled from that world which thou hast long since fled,
And pacing thy green close beyond the sea,
I send my heart to thee.... - A Violin At Dusk
Stumble to silence, all you uneasy things,
That pack the day with bluster and with fret.
For here is music at each window set;
Here is a cup which drips with all the springs...
Top 10 most used topics by Lizette Woodworth Reese
Long 12 Love 10 Wind 10 I Love You 10 Sweet 10 Rose 10 Grass 9 Good 8 Sea 8 Room 8Lizette Woodworth Reese Quotes
Comments about Lizette Woodworth Reese
Mcfcsaltmine: i hate every dawn because it is one day closer to pep leaving. "the east grows yellower apace, and trembles: then, once more, and suddenly, the salt wind blows, and in that moment’s space flame roofs, and poplar-tops, and steeples three" from sunrise by lizette woodworth reeseLopps_1999: a rose is a rose all times of the year. i have one out in the garden there, in the deep grass out by the gray old stair a breath of june in december drear. –lizette woodworth reese (1856–1935), american poet
Platospupil: a rose is a rose all times of the year. i have one out in the garden there, in the deep grass out by the gray old stair a breath of june in december drear. –lizette woodworth reese (1856–1935), american poet
Ufarmandfish: bless the child thrice blessed are they whose early years are spent in some countryside. the flowering and withering of the seasons, and every exquisite sound and sight - every lane, and pasture — lizette woodworth reese
Siindy_metro: poetry sunday: “all hallows night,” by lizette woodworth reese
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