Annie Adams Fields Poems

MY altar holds a constant flame;
There eager, day by day,
I lay my offering; all the same
In dust it drifts away.
...

THE king of song is dying while the moon
Sinks pale into illimitable space,
...

TO dwell all day upon the mountain height,
And ride all night upon the rifted cloud;
To watch the earliest arrow in his flight
...

BESIDE the Indian seas,
Hid in a sloping vale,
Candulla dwelt, a maid,
White as a wandering sail
...

TIS strange indeed! We wander, we forget,
We lose ourselves in countless deeds that fret
And trouble the sad hours; then do we turn
...

The bright sea washed beneath her feet,
As it had done of yore,
The well-remembered odor sweet
Came through her opening door.
...

BESIDE thee, O my river, where I wait
Through vista long of years and drink my fill
Of beauty and of light, a steady rill
...

AT nightfall, coming from the wood,
I crossed the hilltop's gloomy brow,
Where one unsheltered farmhouse stood,
Neglected, dark, and low.
...

Behold him lie in beauty and in vigor,
The seventh sleeper! all the rest awakened;
Behold the wingèd hours are flitting by him
...

UPON the storm-swept beach brown broken weeds
Lay scattered far abroad, and as he saw
The wild, disordered strand, 'Behold the law,'
...