File:Twilight dreams- being poems and pictures of life and nature (1891) (14740465636).jpg

Identifier: twilightdreamsbe00newy (find matches)
Title: Twilight dreams: being poems and pictures of life and nature
Year: 1891 (1890s)
Authors:
Subjects: English poetry
Publisher: New York, Cassell publishing company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: The Library of Congress

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Text Appearing Before Image:
SPRING BLOSSOMS. 7^ HERE is no time so sweet as spring, ,:% When Nature dons her best ; ^ Dispelld is gloom when bud and bloomAwake from winters rest. The birds again their carols sing Within the vernal trees ;And violets rise, with purple eyes, To greet the gentle breeze ! O spring is sweet, for evry flowrGlows gaily in the sun ; And in the air it breathes a prayrFor hours so sweet begun ! 14 No longer reigns the frost and snow, Soft summer now is nigh ;The buds of spring the tidings bring That wintry days must die ; Oer hill and dale the herald roves, With flowrets in his hand,And casts away the blossoms gay To deck the waking land ! O spring is sweet, for evry fiowr Glows gaily in the sun ;And in the air it breathes a prayr For hours so sweet begun ! Edward Oxenford.
Text Appearing After Image:
^j^^ EARS ago, when the wind was low,VY^ And the east was dim and grey, — And the west was red with the sunset-glow, And the daylight ebbed away.And never a sound came through the night Save the rush of waters fleet,I stood where I stand in the waning light, On the bridge where the rivers meet. To the north the tall tors kissed the sky, To the south was the restful sea,To the right and left green hills rose high, And a high hill fronted me ;And down twin valleys on either hand Raced the stream^ to meet and greet.As I stood in the dusk where now I stand, On the bridge where the rivers meet. 15 Over the river from left to right Spread a mist across the vale,Like a still sea, spectral, filmy, and white; And the crescent moon rose pale,And the stars looked down on the streams that sped Through the arches neath my feet,As I stood where I stand, with drooping head, On the bridge where the rivers meet. The years have come, and the years have gone. And have left their marks on me ;But the r

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