File:Poems of life in the country and by the sea (1915) (14580875078).jpg

Identifier: poemsoflifeincou04brow (find matches)
Title: Poems of life in the country and by the sea
Year: 1915 (1910s)
Authors: Brown, Benjamin Francis, 1845-
Subjects:
Publisher: Columbus, Ohio : (s.n.)
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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ning.Like little waves kissing the shore, To the past with an infinite yearningTo live it all over once more. 67 POEMS FROM LIFES EXPERIENCE THE SEA MYSTERY Theres a charm unknown to the dweller farFrom the sandy shore where the breakers are,To feel the spell that will round you twine,In the summer even on the sand recline,While the rosy glow of the waning lightWaves a parting kiss to the starry night. Over the sea, over the sea. Gaze while the waves chant a soft melody, Lapping incessantly, lapping the shore, Giving and taking, but taking far more, Till the curves on the beach grow wide in their reach And the undertow carries the sand to its store. Over the sea, over the sea.Look till enthralled by the sea mystery,Your life in the past dissolves-from your viewAnd you seemingly enter the far -away blue. Tis the charm of the sea, clinging, holding you tightThat keeps you, a watcher, far into the nightTill, breaking its spell, you wander away,But know it will draw you again some day. 68
Text Appearing After Image:
(U o :50 o POEMS FROM LIFES EXPERIENCE THE OLD WOOLEN JACKET How dear to my heart are the clothes of my childhood, Though rarely, if ever. I had any new.The straw hat, the jumper, the pants that were patchedgood; No bare spots appeared till my feet came in view.The old woolen jacket that hung by the door; How often at night on returning from school,I found it the source of exquisite comfort To button it tight when the weather was cool. The old woolen jacket.The patch-covered jacket,The heavy, warm jacketThat hung by the door. That old woolen jacket, A^hen new, was a beauty, And worn by the brother then oldest in line,From brother to brother it slowly descended Until at the last that jacket was mine.Twas stretched in the arm-holes, twas torn in thecollar; Its colors were many, like Josephs, of old.Though striped in front and patches around it, In the cold winds of winter twas better than gold. The old woolen jacket.The patch-covered jacket,The heavy, warm jacketThat hung by the door. N

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