Robert Fuller Murray

(1863 - 1894 / United States)

Robert Fuller Murray Poems

81. Youth Renewed 1/3/2003
82. The M.A. Degree 1/3/2003
83. One Tear 1/3/2003
84. Nightfall 1/3/2003
85. An Afterthought 1/3/2003
86. Footsteps In The Street 1/3/2003
87. Vivien’s Song 4/21/2010
88. Come Back To St Andrews 1/3/2003
89. The Swallows 4/21/2010
90. The Outcast's Farewell 1/3/2003
91. Farewell To A Singer 4/21/2010
92. To C.C.C. 4/21/2010
93. Cyclamen 1/3/2003
94. For Scotland 1/3/2003
95. The Science Club 4/21/2010
96. Death At The Window 1/3/2003
97. Aien Aristeuein (Motto Of St. Andrews University) 1/3/2003
98. Vanity Of Vanities 1/3/2003
99. Trafalgar Square 1/3/2003
100. A College Career 4/21/2010
101. The City Of Golf 1/3/2003
102. Love's Phantom 1/3/2003
103. A Ballad Of Refreshment 4/21/2010
104. Hope Deferred 1/3/2003
105. The Delights Of Mathematics 1/3/2003
106. Welcome Home 1/3/2003
107. A Street Corner 4/21/2010
108. After Many Days 4/21/2010
109. Catullus At His Brother’s Grave 4/21/2010
110. Adventure Of A Poet 1/3/2003
111. A Swinburnian Interlude 4/21/2010
112. A Criticism Of Critics 4/21/2010
113. A Bunch Of Triolets 4/21/2010
114. A Christmas Fancy 1/3/2003
115. A Tennyson Fragment 1/3/2003
116. A Coincidence 1/3/2003
117. A Presentiment 1/3/2003
118. A Wasted Day 1/3/2003
119. Fickle Summer 1/3/2003
120. After Waterloo 1/3/2003

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Best Poem of Robert Fuller Murray

A December Day

Blue, blue is the sea to-day,
Warmly the light
Sleeps on St. Andrews Bay --
Blue, fringed with white.

That's no December sky!
Surely 'tis June
Holds now her state on high,
Queen of the noon.

Only the tree-tops bare
Crowning the hill,
Clear-cut in perfect air,
Warn us that still

Winter, the aged chief,
Mighty in power,
Exiles the tender leaf,
Exiles the flower.

Is there a heart to-day,
A heart that grieves
For flowers that fade away,
For fallen leaves?

Oh, not in leaves or flowers
Endures the...

Read the full of A December Day

Love's Phantom

Whene'er I try to read a book,
Across the page your face will look,
And then I neither know nor care
What sense the printed words may bear.

At night when I would go to sleep,
Thinking of you, awake I keep,
And still repeat the words you said,
Like sick men murmuring prayers in bed.

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