A Clear Night |
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I have worn this day as a fretting, ill-made garment,
Impatient to be rid of it.
And lo, as I drew it off over my shoulders
This jewel caught in my hair.
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More `Karle Wilson Baker` Poems
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Dropp'd feather from the wings of God
My little songs and snatches are,
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From garden-beds I tend, it is not far
To those great ranges where he used to ride;
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The redbird is the core of fire at the heart of by still living;
And his little lady is the soft ashes covering the half-seen embers."
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Classic Poems
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Up in th' mountain
I was a-sitting,
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AND wherefore sends not
The horseman-captain
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Lo! where the rosy-bosom'd Hours,
Fair Venus' train appear,
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You are so serious, as if
a glacier spoke in your ear
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'BUSK ye, busk ye, my bonnie, bonnie bride!
Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome marrow!
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