Robert Fuller Murray

(1863 - 1894 / United States)

Robert Fuller Murray Poems

1. The Wasted Day 5/13/2015
2. For A Present Of Roses 1/3/2003
3. Moonlight North And South 1/3/2003
4. Poets 1/3/2003
5. Make-Believes 1/3/2003
6. The Haunted Chamber 1/3/2003
7. Make-Believes 4/21/2010
8. The Banished Bejant 4/21/2010
9. The Best Pipe 4/21/2010
10. Reflections Of A Magistrand 4/21/2010
11. Indolence 1/3/2003
12. The Fiddler 1/3/2003
13. Song From ‘the Princess’ 4/21/2010
14. The Close Of The Session 4/21/2010
15. Music For The Dying 4/21/2010
16. The Burial Of William - The Conqueror 1/3/2003
17. Song Is Not Dead 1/3/2003
18. The Caged Thrush 1/3/2003
19. Love's Worship Restored 1/3/2003
20. In Time Of Sorrow 1/3/2003
21. Requiem 1/3/2003
22. On A Crushed Hat 4/21/2010
23. Milton 4/21/2010
24. Sweetheart 4/21/2010
25. The End Of April 4/21/2010
26. My Lady 1/3/2003
27. Dawn Song 1/3/2003
28. In Time Of Doubt 1/3/2003
29. Lost At Sea 4/21/2010
30. Pleasant Prophecies 4/21/2010
31. Where's The Use? 1/3/2003
32. Partnership In Fame 1/3/2003
33. Stanzas For Music 4/21/2010
34. Imitated From Wordsworth 1/3/2003
35. An Orator’s Complaint 4/21/2010
36. Midnight 1/3/2003
37. An Interview 1/3/2003
38. Sleep Flies Me 1/3/2003
39. Tears 1/3/2003
40. The First Meeting 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Robert Fuller Murray

A Late Good Night

My lamp is out, my task is done,
And up the stair with lingering feet
I climb. The staircase clock strikes one.
Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!

My solitary room I gain.
A single star makes incomplete
The blackness of the window pane.
Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!

Dim and more dim its sparkle grows,
And ere my head the pillows meet,
My lids are fain themselves to close.
Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!

My lips no other words can say,
But still they murmur and repeat
To you, who slumber far away,
Good ...

Read the full of A Late Good Night

A May-Day Madrigal

The sun shines fair on Tweedside, the river flowing bright,
Your heart is full of pleasure, your eyes are full of light,
Your cheeks are like the morning, your pearls are like the dew,
Or morning and her dew-drops are like your pearls and you.

Because you are a princess, a princess of the land,
You will not turn your lightsome eyes a moment where I stand,
A poor unnoticed poet, a-making of his rhymes;
But I have found a mistress, more fair a thousand times.

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