Thomas Bailey Aldrich ( 10 of 31 )
Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of read more
Have you not heard the poets tell
How came the dainty Baby Bell
Into this world of ours?
Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the read more
Only the sea intoning,
Only the wainscot-mouse,
Only the wild wind moaning
Over the lonely house.
Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows
In yonder West: the fair, frail palaces,
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Come watch with me the shaft of fire that glows
In yonder West: the fair, frail palaces,
The fading Alps and archipelagoes,
And great cloud-continents of sunset-seas.
We weep when we are born,
Not when we die!
We weep when we are born,
Not when we die!
The happy bells shall ring Marguerite;
The summer birds shall sing Marguerite;
You smile but you shall read more
The happy bells shall ring Marguerite;
The summer birds shall sing Marguerite;
You smile but you shall wear
Orange blossoms in your hair, Marguerite.
Or light or dark, or short or tall,
She sets a springe to snare them all:
All's read more
Or light or dark, or short or tall,
She sets a springe to snare them all:
All's one to her--above her fan
She'd make sweet eyes at Caliban.
We knew it would rain, for the poplars showed
The white of their leaves, the amber grain
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We knew it would rain, for the poplars showed
The white of their leaves, the amber grain
Shrunk in the wind,--and the lightning now
Is tangled in tremulous skeins of rain.
I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not yet the flaky roses,
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I like not lady-slippers,
Not yet the sweet-pea blossoms,
Not yet the flaky roses,
Red or white as snow;
I like the chaliced lilies,
The heavy Eastern lilies,
The gorgeous tiger-lilies,
That in our garden grow.
Dear Lord, though I be changed to senseless clay,
And serve the Potter as he turn his wheel,
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Dear Lord, though I be changed to senseless clay,
And serve the Potter as he turn his wheel,
I thank Thee for the gracious gift of tears!
Till then, good-night!
You wish the time were now? And I.
You do not blush to wish read more
Till then, good-night!
You wish the time were now? And I.
You do not blush to wish it so?
You would have blush'd yourself to death
To own so much a year ago.
What! both these snowy hands? ah, then
I'll have to say, Good-night again.