Mathilde Blind

(1841 - 1896 / Germany)

Mathilde Blind Poems

41. Winding All My Life About Thee 1/3/2003
42. On Reading The 1/3/2003
43. A Symbol 1/3/2003
44. O Moon 1/3/2003
45. I Think Of Thee In Watches Of The Night 1/3/2003
46. When You Wake 1/3/2003
47. Why Will You Haunt Me 1/3/2003
48. The Music-Lesson 1/3/2003
49. Hope 1/3/2003
50. On The Lighthouse At Antibes 1/3/2003
51. Green Leaves And Sere 1/3/2003
52. Deep In A Yew-Sequestered Grove 1/3/2003
53. Nirvana 1/3/2003
54. Thou Walkest With Me 1/3/2003
55. The Tombs Of The Kings 1/3/2003
56. New Year's Eve 1/3/2003
57. The Evening Of The Year 1/3/2003
58. Christmas Even 1/3/2003
59. Welcome To Egypt 1/3/2003
60. Pauper Poet's Song 1/3/2003
61. The Desert 1/3/2003
62. Sphinx-Money 1/3/2003
63. Cleave Thou The Waves 1/3/2003
64. The Passing Year 1/3/2003
65. Once On A Golden Day 1/3/2003
66. Haunted Streets 1/3/2003
67. Ah, Yesterday Was Dark And Drear 1/3/2003
68. Like Some Wild Sleeper 1/3/2003
69. Cagnes 1/3/2003
70. Manchester By Night 1/3/2003
71. In A Lonesome Burial-Place 1/3/2003
72. Affinities 4/20/2010
73. Anne Hathaway 4/20/2010
74. Anne Hathaway's Cottage 4/20/2010
75. A Bridal In The Bois De Boulogne. 4/20/2010
76. A Parable 4/20/2010
77. Between Sleep And Waking 4/20/2010
78. Cleve Woods 4/20/2010
79. Cross-Roads 4/20/2010
80. Delight 4/20/2010

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Best Poem of Mathilde Blind

If You But Knew

Ah, if you knew how soon and late
My eyes long for a sight of you,
Sometimes in passing by my gate
You'd linger until fall of dew,
If you but knew!

Ah, if you knew how sick and sore
My life flags for the want of you,
Straightway you'd enter at the door
And clasp my hand between your two,
If you but knew!

Ah, if you knew how lost and lone
I watch and weep and wait for you,
You'd press my heart close to your own
Till love had healed me through and through,
If you but knew!

Read the full of If You But Knew

On And On

By long leagues of wood and meadow
On and on we drive apace;
In the dreamy light and shadow
Veiling earth's autumnal face.

Rosy clouds are drifting o'er us,
Rooks rise parleying from their tryst,
And the road lies far before us,
Fading into amethyst.

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