Alexander Anderson Poems

To-morrow I will be in Rome, and thou
Within thy village. I can see thee stand,
Thine eyes in the direction of this land:
Fair pillar of the past, as it is now
The refuge of its heirlooms. In my ears
...

A tender light, when I look back,
Is all that I can see
Of that sweet time and that sweet walk—
The last she took with me.
...

The wings of the dear old past, Annie,
Are falling over me,
And again my thoughts take their flight, Annie,
Over the sea to thee.
...

A happy time in my young life—when dreams
Ran in sweet thrills through all my eager frame—
Came back again with all its golden gleams,
Like summer's sunset with its beams of flame,
...

I sat by night and read the Book,
Till doubt was mingled with my look,
...

The angels look'd up into God's own eyes,
As He shut the gateways of Paradise;
...

J'aime Monsieur Francois Rabelais, that
Rough, shoulder-shrugging, laughing Frenchman,
Who struts about, broad, red, and fat,
...

Roses fade, and why not you?
Mary, in whose eyes we view
Sweetest fancies peeping through,
...

Two master spirits of German song, they stand
Each by the side of each; the sculptor's thought
Has guided the sure chisel, as it ought,
...

I know thou wilt. And so to me the past
Is richer from my pleasant days with thee,
And wears a happy memory to me,
...