Isabella Fyvie Mayo
Isabella Fyvie Mayo Poems
|1.||A Message From The Sea||10/19/2012|
|3.||The Midnight Lamp||10/19/2012|
|4.||My Cousin's Portrait||10/19/2012|
|5.||The Death Of Emilia Manin||10/19/2012|
|8.||The Dead Poet||10/19/2012|
|9.||Bedide The Stile||10/19/2012|
|10.||In The Choir||10/19/2012|
|11.||Waiting In The Dusk||10/19/2012|
|14.||Among The Corn||10/19/2012|
|15.||The Deaf Musician||10/19/2012|
|17.||A Love Gift||10/19/2012|
|18.||Father And Mother||10/19/2012|
|19.||Times Of Revealing||10/19/2012|
|21.||In The Firelight||10/19/2012|
|22.||A Messenger Of Consolation||10/19/2012|
|23.||A Cripple's Story||10/19/2012|
|24.||Shadows Of The Past||10/19/2012|
Comments about Isabella Fyvie Mayo
Shadows Of The Past
I'm sitting in a shady room,
A dainty scent pervades its gloom,
The perfume from a withered flower
Gathered—who knows in what sweet hour?
Or pressed by what fair lips which must
Have mingled long ere this with dust?
The relic of a grandsire's love
Stored with a letter and a glove!
And all about the room are spread
The handiworks of ladies dead:
A great aunt's miracles in lace,
A Dian coming from the chase
Worked by great-grandmothers of mine
While great-grandfathers sipped their wine;
And here's a valentine so torn
I think it was received in ...
The Midnight Lamp
From window, curtainless and high,
There gleamed a sickly, yellow light;
On other casements darkness fell,
But that shone all the dreary night.
And every morning, when the street
Woke to the carman's cheery shout,
Or the quick tread of hurrying feet,
The little yellow light went out.