Lizette Woodworth Reese
Tears
When I consider Life and its few years A wisp of fog betwixt us and the sun; A call to battle, and the battle done Ere the last echo dies within our ears; A
Oh, Gray And Tender Is The Rain
Oh, gray and tender is the rain, That drips, drips on the pane! A hundred things come in the door, The scent of herbs, the thought of yore. I see the pool out in
Spicewood
The spicewood burns along the gray, spent sky, In moist unchimneyed places, in a wind, That whips it all before, and all behind, Into one thick, rude flame, now low, now high, It is
That Day you came
Such special sweetness was about That day God sent you here, I knew the lavender was out, And it was mid of year. Their common way the great winds blew, The ships sailed out
Love came back at Fall o’ Dew
Love came back at fall o’ dew, Playing his old part; But I had a word or two That would break his heart. “He who comes at candlelight, That should come before, Must betake
A Rhyme of Death’s Inn
A rhyme of good Death’s inn! My love came to that door; And she had need of many things, The way had been so sore. My love she lifted up her head, “And is