Rose Terry Cooke

I watch her in the corner there,
As, restless, bold, and unafraid,
She slips and floats along the air
...

Sunset on the mountains hoary,
Deepens into night;
Day hath lost its crown of glory,
Life hath lost its light.
...

Night comes creeping slowly o'er me,
Like a vapor cold and gray;
Dim the track that lies before me,
Lost the lingering smile of day.
...

IF I were a cloud in heaven,
I would hang over thee;
If I were a star of even,
I ’d rise and set for thee;
...

Singer of priceless melody,
Underguerdoned chorister of air,
Who from the lithe top of the tree
Pourest at will thy music rare,
As if a sudden brook laughed down the hill-side there.
...

The summer sun bedecks Anjou,
The harvest time keeps promise true,
And I have kept my faith with you
Basile Renaud!
...

'Stretch out thy hand, insatiate Time!
Keeper of keys, restore to me
Some gift that in the gray Earth's prime
Her happy children held of thee;
...

There comes a time of rest to thee,
Whose laden boughs droop heavily
Toward earth, thou golden-fruited tree!
...

There's a bluebird sits on the apple-tree bough,
Singing merrily and gay.
Come, little blossoms, the Spring's here now,
And the sun shines warm all day.
...

With eager steps I go
Across the valleys low,
Where in deep brakes the writhing serpents hiss.
Above, below, around,
I hear the dreadful sound
Of thy calm breath, eternal Nemesis!
...

Fair and peaceful daisies,
Smiling in the grass,
Who hath sung your praises?
Poets by you pass,
And I alone am left to celebrate your mass.
...

When I am a sea-flower
Under the cool green tide,
Where the sunshine slants and quivers,
And the quaint, gray fishes glide,
...

A silent, odor-laden air,
From heavy branches dropping balm;
A crowd of daisies milky fair,
That sunward turn their faces calm.
So rapt, a bird alone may dare
To stir their rapture with his psalm.
...

PUT every tiny robe away!
The stitches all were set with tears,
Slow, tender drops of joys; to-day
Their rain would wither hopes or fears:
...

'Tis something to have turned the tide
That ebbed and ebbed and slid away,
Till all the sands lay bare and wide,
A dreary level, bleak and gray.
...

Once, when the new moon glittered
So slender in the West,
I looked across my shoulder,
And a wild wish stirred my breast.
...

You bound and made your sport of him, Philistia!
You set your sons at him to floud and jeer;
You loaded down his limbs with heavy fetters;
Your mildest mercy was a smiling sneer.
...

In a gleam of sunshine a gentian stood,
Dreaming her life away,
While the leaves danced merrily through the wood,
And rode on the wind for play.
...

Loves serene, uncarnate Graces!
Born of pure dreams in lonely places,
Where the black untrodden earth
Rejects the dancing sunshine's mirth,
...

Sole she sat beside her window,
Hearing only rain-drops pour,
Looking only at the shore,
When, outside the little casement,
Weeping in a feigned abasement,
Love stood knocking
Knocking at her bolted door.
...