Lizette Woodworth Reese Grass Poems

  • 1.
    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.
    ...
  • 2.
    I am Thy grass, O Lord!
    I grow up sweet and tall
    But for a day, beneath Thy sword
    To lie at evenfall.
    ...
  • 3.
    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.
    ...
  • 4.
    Such special sweetness was about
    That day God sent you here,
    I knew the lavender was out,
    And it was mid of year.
    ...
  • 5.
    When I consider Life and its few years-
    A wisp of fog betwixt us and the sun;
    A call to battle, and the battle done
    Ere the last echo dies within our ears;
    ...
  • 6.
    The spicewood burns along the gray, spent sky,
    In moist unchimneyed places, in a wind,
    That whips it all before, and all behind,
    Into one thick, rude flame, now low, now high,
    ...
  • 7.
    Oh, gray and tender is the rain,
    That drips, drips on the pane!
    A hundred things come in the door,
    The scent of herbs, the thought of yore.
    ...
  • 8.
    Fathered by March, the daffodils are here.
    First, all the air grew keen with yesterday,
    And once a thrush from out some hollow gray
    On a field's edge, where whitening stalks made cheer,
    ...
  • 9.
    Wild rockets blew along the lane;
    The tall white gentians too were there;
    The mullein stalks were brave again;
    Of blossoms was the bramble bare;
    ...
Total 9 Grass Poems by Lizette Woodworth Reese

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 8

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Poem of the day

Andrew Lang Poem
Ballade Of The Midnight Forest
 by Andrew Lang

Still sing the mocking fairies, as of old,
Beneath the shade of thorn and holly-tree;
The west wind breathes upon them, pure and cold,
And wolves still dread Diana roaming free
In secret woodland with her company.
'Tis thought the peasants' hovels know her rite
When now the wolds are bathed in silver light,
And first the moonrise breaks the dusky grey,
...

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