Isabella Valancy Crawford

(25 December 1850 – 12 February 1887 / Dublin, Ireland)

Isabella Valancy Crawford Poems

1. A Battle 4/20/2010
2. A Harvest Song 4/20/2010
3. A Hungry Day 4/20/2010
4. A Perfect Strain 4/20/2010
5. An Interregnum 4/20/2010
6. Baby's Dreams 4/20/2010
7. Baby's Dreams (Second Version) 4/20/2010
8. Beside The Sea 4/20/2010
9. Between The Wind And Rain 4/20/2010
10. Bite Deep And Wide, O Axe, The Tree! 4/20/2010
11. Bouche-Mignonne 4/20/2010
12. Caesar's Wife 4/20/2010
13. Canada To England 4/20/2010
14. Curtius 4/20/2010
15. Farmer Downs Changes His Opinion Of Nature 4/20/2010
16. Gisli: The Chieftain 4/20/2010
17. His Mother 12/31/2002
18. His Sweetheart 12/31/2002
19. His Wife And Baby 12/31/2002
20. How Deacon Fry Bought A Duchess 4/20/2010
21. In Exchange For His Soul! 4/20/2010
22. Joy's City 4/20/2010
23. La Bouquetiere 4/20/2010
24. Late Loved--Well Loved 4/20/2010
25. Love's Land 4/20/2010
26. Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part I. 4/20/2010
27. Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part Ii. 4/20/2010
28. Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part Iii. 4/20/2010
29. Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part Iv. 4/20/2010
30. Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part V. 4/20/2010
31. Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part Vi. 4/20/2010
32. March 4/20/2010
33. Mary's Tryst 4/20/2010
34. My Ain Bonnie Lass O' The Glen. 4/20/2010
35. My Irish Love 4/20/2010
36. Old Spense 4/20/2010
37. Old Spookses' Pass 1/1/2004
38. Roses In Madrid 4/20/2010
39. Said The Skylark 4/20/2010
40. Said The Thistle-Down 4/20/2010
Best Poem of Isabella Valancy Crawford

The Canoe

My masters twain made me a bed
Of pine-boughs resinous, and cedar;
Of moss, a soft and gentle breeder
Of dreams of rest; and me they spread
With furry skins, and laughing said,
'Now she shall lay her polish'd sides,
As queens do rest, or dainty brides,
Our slender lady of the tides!'

My masters twain their camp-soul lit,
Streamed incense from the hissing cones,
Large, crimson flashes grew and whirl'd
Thin, golden nerves of sly light curl'd
Round the dun camp, and rose faint zones,
Half way about each grim bole knit,
Like a shy child that would ...

Read the full of The Canoe

Said The West Wind

1 I love old earth! Why should I lift my wings,
2 My misty wings, so high above her breast
3 That flowers would shake no perfumes from their hearts,
4 And waters breathe no whispers to the shores?
5 I love deep places builded high with woods,
6 Deep, dusk, fern-closed, and starred with nodding blooms,
7 Close watched by hills, green, garlanded and tall.

8 On hazy wings, all shot with mellow gold,

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