Robert Crawford

(1868 - 13 January 1930 / Australia)

Robert Crawford Poems

81. The Poem. 4/21/2010
82. The Re-Awakening. 4/21/2010
83. The Recuperative Power Of Youth. 4/21/2010
84. Theory And Practice. 4/21/2010
85. Loss. 4/21/2010
86. Love #2. 4/21/2010
87. Life, A Language. 4/21/2010
88. Self-Harmony. 4/21/2010
89. Night. 4/21/2010
90. In The Grass. 4/21/2010
91. Her Glass. 4/21/2010
92. Half-Views. 4/21/2010
93. Fate. 4/21/2010
94. For Love I, Too, Could Die (She Said) Nor Fear It, 4/21/2010
95. Poetic Emotion. 4/21/2010
96. Rondel. 4/21/2010
97. Song #3. 4/21/2010
98. Isolation. 4/21/2010
99. Love In Hades. 4/21/2010
100. Maiden Lips. 4/21/2010
101. Love's Vision. 4/21/2010
102. Love's Mesmerism. 4/21/2010
103. Love's Messengers. 4/21/2010
104. The Sea Of Time. 4/21/2010
105. The Old Gods. 4/21/2010
106. Song #6. 4/21/2010
107. Spring. 4/21/2010
108. The Comic Preacher. 4/21/2010
109. Song #9. 4/21/2010
110. The Blind Reader. 4/21/2010
111. The Bond. 4/21/2010
112. The Bride. 4/21/2010
113. The Chase. 4/21/2010
114. The Hill. 4/21/2010
115. The Isles Of Sleep. 4/21/2010
116. The Passion Of Love's Power. 4/21/2010
117. Women. 4/21/2010
118. Love Litanies. 4/21/2010
119. Love's Bower. 4/21/2010
120. Life's Eden. 4/21/2010

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Best Poem of Robert Crawford

A Song Of The Sea.

Here within the half-light 'tween the night and day
Upon the sands I lie, with thoughts that idly stirr'd
Seem, as in a dream, with life and death to play,
As o'er the sea there flits a pale white bird.
In my heart I hear it, the murmur of the sea,
Ah! and memories of other lives are stirr'd,
As somewise there came a mystic voice to me
As o'er the sea there flits a pale white bird.
Who but knows that in me is a ghost that hears
A voice it heard of old in the primeval word —
A memory so dim, it like a dream appears
As o'er the sea there flits a pale white bird!

Read the full of A Song Of The Sea.

Dream-Death

There is a breath at midnight that comes in
Sad as a sigh, for then the day is dead
And the young morrow doth his course begin,
Sowing new dreams in many a dreamer's head.
And there are two have waked in one dark bed
Just as the last stroke fades in lonely air,
And having whispered, half-awake, have sped
With silent feet into sleep's poppied lair.
She with the morning wakes, but he is gone;

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