Ina D. Coolbrith

Rookie (1842-1928 / Nauvoo, Illinois (Josephine D. Smith))

Ina D. Coolbrith Poems

1. A Leaf For Memory 7/8/2008
2. A Meeting 7/8/2008
3. A Memory 7/8/2008
4. A Song Of The Summer Wind 7/8/2008
5. Across The Chasm 7/8/2008
6. After The Battles 7/9/2008
7. A Page Of Herrick 7/8/2008
8. An Answer 7/9/2008
9. An Emblem 7/9/2008
10. Art Of William Keith, The 7/9/2008
11. At Anchor * 7/9/2008
12. At Peace 7/9/2008
13. At Rest (B. P. A.) 7/9/2008
14. All 7/9/2008
15. Alien 7/9/2008
16. At The Close 7/9/2008
17. At The Dawn (Song) 7/9/2008
18. Atom 7/9/2008
19. Be Happy, Happy, Little Maid 7/9/2008
20. Beside The Dead 7/9/2008
21. Birth Of Love, The 7/9/2008
22. Bohemia * 7/9/2008
23. Bret Harte* 7/9/2008
24. Bribe, The 7/9/2008
25. Brook, The 7/9/2008
26. Calla* 7/9/2008
27. Came To My Side 7/9/2008
28. Captive Of The White City, The * 7/9/2008
29. Carmel-By-The-Sea 7/9/2008
30. Chosen Hour, The 7/9/2008
31. Christmas Eve: 1872 7/9/2008
32. California Jubilee Poem 7/9/2008
33. Colonel’s Toast, The * 7/9/2008
34. Coming, The 7/9/2008
35. Crucifixion, Still, The 7/9/2008
36. Cupid Kissed Me 7/9/2008
37. Day Of Our Lord, The 7/10/2008
38. Dead 7/10/2008
39. December 7/10/2008
40. Edward Rowland Sill 7/10/2008

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Best Poem of Ina D. Coolbrith

When The Grass Shall Cover Me

When the grass shall cover me,
Head to foot where I am lying;
When not any wind that blows,
Summer-blooms nor winter snows,
Shall awake me to your sighing:
Close above me as you pass,
You will say: 'How kind she was, '
You will say: 'How true she was, '
When the grass grows over me.

When the grass shall cover me,
Holden close to earth's warm bosom;
While I laugh, or weep, or sing,
Nevermore, for anything:
You will find in blade and blossom,
Sweet small voices, odorous,
Tender pleaders in my cause,
That shall speak me as I was ...

Read the full of When The Grass Shall Cover Me

A Leaf For Memory

Not to the brave upon the battle-field
Alone, the palms of victory belong;
Nor only to the great of earth the song
Of praise and paean should the singer yield.
Greater the souls that, single handed, wield
The battle-ax against the hosts of wrong,
Unknown, un-noted, in life’s reckless throng,
And only in God’s day to stand revealed.
How many such, in patient, humble guise,

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