John Henry Boner Poems

IT was a still autumnal day—
So sadly still and strangely bright—
The hectic glow of quick decay
Tinged everything with lovely light.
...

Here lived the soul enchanted
By melody of song;
Here dwelt the spirit haunted
By a demoniac throng;
...

I THINK that we retain of our dead friends
And absent ones no general portraiture;
That perfect memory does not long endure,
...

When wintry days are dark and drear
And all the forest ways grow still,
When gray snow-laden clouds appear
Along the bleak horizon hill,
...