Isabella Valancy Crawford

(25 December 1850 – 12 February 1887 / Dublin, Ireland)

Isabella Valancy Crawford Poems

1. Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part Vi. 4/20/2010
2. The Roman Rose-Seller 4/20/2010
3. The Helot 4/20/2010
4. Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part Iii. 4/20/2010
5. Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part V. 4/20/2010
6. Some Of Farmer Stebbin's Opinions 4/20/2010
7. The Deacon And His Daughter 4/20/2010
8. Love's Land 4/20/2010
9. Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part Ii. 4/20/2010
10. The Earth Waxeth Old. 4/20/2010
11. The Wishing Star. 4/20/2010
12. The Burgomeister's Well 4/20/2010
13. Said The Wind 4/20/2010
14. Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part Iv. 4/20/2010
15. March 4/20/2010
16. Mary's Tryst 4/20/2010
17. The Ghosts Of The Trees 4/20/2010
18. Two Songs Of Spain 4/20/2010
19. The Shell 4/20/2010
20. The Wooing Of Gheezis 4/20/2010
21. Said The Skylark 4/20/2010
22. Said The Thistle-Down 4/20/2010
23. The Land Of Kisses 4/20/2010
24. Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part I. 4/20/2010
25. The Farmer's Daughter Cherry 4/20/2010
26. Old Spense 4/20/2010
27. The Hidden Room 4/20/2010
28. My Ain Bonnie Lass O' The Glen. 4/20/2010
29. La Bouquetiere 4/20/2010
30. The White Bull 4/20/2010
31. Late Loved--Well Loved 4/20/2010
32. Roses In Madrid 4/20/2010
33. The Sword 4/20/2010
34. My Irish Love 4/20/2010
35. The City Tree 4/20/2010
36. Songs For The Soldiers 12/31/2002
37. Gisli: The Chieftain 4/20/2010
38. The Rose 12/31/2002
39. The Lily Bed 12/31/2002
40. Bouche-Mignonne 4/20/2010

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Best Poem of Isabella Valancy Crawford

His Mother

In the first dawn she lifted from her bed
The holy silver of her noble head,
And listened, listened, listened for his tread.
'Too soon, too soon !' she murmured, 'Yet I'll keep
My vigil longer­ thou, O tender Sleep,
Art but the joy of those who wake and weep!

'Joy's self hath keen, wide eyes. O flesh of mine,
And mine own blood and bone, the very wine
Of my aged heart, I see thy dear eyes shine!

'I hear thy tread; thy light, loved footsteps run
Along the way, eager for that 'Well done !'
We'll weep and kiss to thee, my soldier son!

'Blest ...

Read the full of His Mother

The Camp Of Souls

1 My white canoe, like the silvery air
2 O'er the River of Death that darkly rolls
3 When the moons of the world are round and fair,
4 I paddle back from the 'Camp of Souls.'
5 When the wishton-wish in the low swamp grieves
6 Come the dark plumes of red 'Singing Leaves.'

7 Two hundred times have the moons of spring
8 Rolled over the bright bay's azure breath

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