ISBN: 9781153745994

Excerpt: ...of yore. Still strange, strange, they sound in old-young raiment invested, Songs for the brain to forget - Young song-birds elate to grave old temples benested Piping and chir… Mehr…

Excerpt: ...of yore. Still strange, strange, they sound in old-young raiment invested, Songs for the brain to forget - Young song-birds elate to grave old temples benested Piping and chirruping yet. Thoughts? No thought has yet unskilled attempted to flutter Trammelled so vilely in verse; He who writes but aims at fame and his bread and his butter, Won with a groan and a curse. LONG TIME I LAY IN LITTLE EASE LONG time I lay in little ease Where, placed by the Turanian, Marseilles, the many-masted, sees The blue Mediterranean. Now songful in the hour of sport, Now riotous for wages, She camps around her ancient port, As ancient of the ages. Algerian airs through all the place Unconquerably sally; Incomparable women pace The shadows of the alley. And high o''er dark and graving yard And where the sky is paler, The golden virgin of the guard Shines, beckoning the sailor. She hears the city roar on high, Thief, prostitute, and banker; She sees the masted vessels lie Immovably at anchor. She sees the snowy islets dot The sea''s immortal azure, And If, that castellated spot, Tower, turret, and embrasure. FLOWER GOD, GOD OF THE SPRING FLOWER god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful, Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles, Here I wander in April Cold, grey-headed; and still to my Heart, Spring comes with a bound, Spring the deliverer, Spring, song-leader in woods, chorally resonant; Spring, flower-planter in meadows, Child-conductor in willowy Fields deep dotted with bloom, daisies and crocuses: Here that child from his heart drinks of eternity: O child, happy are children! She still smiles on their innocence, She, dear mother in God, fostering violets, Fills earth full of her scents, voices and violins: Thus one cunning in music Wakes old chords in the memory: Thus fair earth in the Spring leads her performances. One more touch of the bow, smell of the virginal Green - one more, and my bosom Feels new life with an ecstasy. COME, MY BELOVED, HEAR FROM ME... Robert Louis Stevenson, Books, Fiction and Literature, New Poems Books>Fiction and Literature, General Books LLC<

ISBN: 9781153745994

Excerpt: ...of yore. Still strange, strange, they sound in old-young raiment invested, Songs for the brain to forget - Young song-birds elate to grave old temples benested Piping and chir… Mehr…

Excerpt: ...of yore. Still strange, strange, they sound in old-young raiment invested, Songs for the brain to forget - Young song-birds elate to grave old temples benested Piping and chirruping yet. Thoughts? No thought has yet unskilled attempted to flutter Trammelled so vilely in verse; He who writes but aims at fame and his bread and his butter, Won with a groan and a curse. LONG TIME I LAY IN LITTLE EASE LONG time I lay in little ease Where, placed by the Turanian, Marseilles, the many-masted, sees The blue Mediterranean. Now songful in the hour of sport, Now riotous for wages, She camps around her ancient port, As ancient of the ages. Algerian airs through all the place Unconquerably sally; Incomparable women pace The shadows of the alley. And high o''er dark and graving yard And where the sky is paler, The golden virgin of the guard Shines, beckoning the sailor. She hears the city roar on high, Thief, prostitute, and banker; She sees the masted vessels lie Immovably at anchor. She sees the snowy islets dot The sea''s immortal azure, And If, that castellated spot, Tower, turret, and embrasure. FLOWER GOD, GOD OF THE SPRING FLOWER god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful, Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles, Here I wander in April Cold, grey-headed; and still to my Heart, Spring comes with a bound, Spring the deliverer, Spring, song-leader in woods, chorally resonant; Spring, flower-planter in meadows, Child-conductor in willowy Fields deep dotted with bloom, daisies and crocuses: Here that child from his heart drinks of eternity: O child, happy are children! She still smiles on their innocence, She, dear mother in God, fostering violets, Fills earth full of her scents, voices and violins: Thus one cunning in music Wakes old chords in the memory: Thus fair earth in the Spring leads her performances. One more touch of the bow, smell of the virginal Green - one more, and my bosom Feels new life with an ecstasy. COME, MY BELOVED, HEAR FROM ME... Robert Louis Stevenson, Books, Fiction and Literature, New Poems Books>Fiction and Literature <

ISBN: 9781153745994

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