Songs of East and WestJ. P. Morton, 1906 - 58 pages |
From inside the book
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Page 8
... waste is lost ; From drought the date and olive flourish free , No tulip ever shudders from the frost . No traveler's camel pants and kneels to die As hot siroccos fling their fiery dust ; No sun - scorched famine makes of earth and sky ...
... waste is lost ; From drought the date and olive flourish free , No tulip ever shudders from the frost . No traveler's camel pants and kneels to die As hot siroccos fling their fiery dust ; No sun - scorched famine makes of earth and sky ...
Page 21
... waste away unloved and all alone ; My bosom is a dried - up river bed , The heart within it but a dusty stone . O , all Thy gifts are held beyond my grasp ; I am a woman ; let me sweetly rest , To feel a lover's arms around me clasp , A ...
... waste away unloved and all alone ; My bosom is a dried - up river bed , The heart within it but a dusty stone . O , all Thy gifts are held beyond my grasp ; I am a woman ; let me sweetly rest , To feel a lover's arms around me clasp , A ...
Page 22
... waste is dear unto thee ? Around you I see the dead cactus stand , And brown , withered weeds on hot hills of sand . Here yawns the red gully , here burns the dead plain , Here hang the sharp rocks , all thirsty for rain . O dove of the ...
... waste is dear unto thee ? Around you I see the dead cactus stand , And brown , withered weeds on hot hills of sand . Here yawns the red gully , here burns the dead plain , Here hang the sharp rocks , all thirsty for rain . O dove of the ...
Page 49
... husk flips out its floating down , The bursting pod shells out its rattling seeds . The pasture is a desert burned to brown , The garden is a withered waste of weeds . DROUGHT . O let dark clouds like ocean billows roll 49 Drought.
... husk flips out its floating down , The bursting pod shells out its rattling seeds . The pasture is a desert burned to brown , The garden is a withered waste of weeds . DROUGHT . O let dark clouds like ocean billows roll 49 Drought.
Page 51
... waste you stole , And made the birds sing and the blossoms blow . How sweet you were , O precious , when you came To let me know my soul had found its mate ; My Autumn skies were flushed with vernal flame— And then I saw the warning ...
... waste you stole , And made the birds sing and the blossoms blow . How sweet you were , O precious , when you came To let me know my soul had found its mate ; My Autumn skies were flushed with vernal flame— And then I saw the warning ...
Common terms and phrases
A-thrill Art thou aster BESIDE THE DANUBE Bird answers bird blaze blest bliss bloom blossom boughs breath brown burning cactus Cæsar CAPTURED BATTLESHIP CARROLL VANCE clasp cloud Danube River dark dead dear desert Dove dreams DROUGHT Earth everlasting fade far-off feet flame flee flit float flowers forever forever free forever young free from winter glorious glory glow gold golden gray green hands hang heart a hell kiss lantana leaf Linger lover's lute MEXICAN WAYSIDE STATION mirth morning never NIGHT IN CUBA noon old-time Oleanders OMAR IN HEAVEN once orchids PASADENA past peerless precious purple rain Rhine Saint Augustine SAN GABRIEL MISSION sand scarlet sigh sing skies SONGS OF EAST soon soul sweet swing tell thee thou tread tropic twilight UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN wait and wait wild mountain brook wings withered WOOD THRUSH wooden saint yellow young youth
Popular passages
Page 13 - Wail not for precious chances passed away, Weep not for golden ages on the wane! Each night I burn the records of the day; At sunrise every soul is born again. Laugh like a boy at splendors that have sped, To vanished joys be blind and deaf and dumb; My judgments seal the dead past with its dead, But never bind a moment yet to come. Though deep in mire, wring not your hands and weep; I lend my arm to all who say,
Page 13 - I can!" No shamefaced outcast ever sank so deep But yet might rise and be again a man! Dost thou behold thy lost youth all aghast? Dost reel from righteous retribution's blow? Then turn from blotted archives of the past And find the future's pages white as snow. Art thou a mourner? Rouse thee from thy spell. Art thou a sinner? Sins may be forgiven. Each morning gives thee wings to flee from hell. Each night a star to guide thy feet to heaven.
Page 13 - To vanished joys be blind and deaf and dumb; My judgments seal the dead past with its dead, But never bind a moment yet to come. Though deep in mire wring not your hands and weep, I lend my arm to all who say, "I can!" No shamefaced outcast ever sank so deep But yet might rise and be again a man! Dost thou behold thy lost youth all aghast? Dost reel from righteous retribution's blow? Then turn from blotted archives of the past And find the future's pages white as snow. Art thou a mourner? Rouse thee...
Page 46 - ... we agree with one of his sonnets contained therein : The Death of Poetry. They tell us that the poet's day is past, That song no more shall gush from human heart ; They tell us all the old dreams must depart, The old ideals by the way be cast. What babbling folly! Frailest dreams outlast The noisy jargon of the mightiest mart, Great empires crumble, yet the realm of Art Unconquered, glorious, stands forever fast. When spring comes not in triumph as of yore, When earth's last rose her last sweet...
Page 46 - ... so soon, so soon! The orange odors soon must faint, The lemon blossoms soon must die, The mocking-bird must end his plaint, Magnolias, fading, flutter by. Then come, sweet mate, Before it be too late! While Youth is blissful, Love divine, O maiden of the flower-like face, be mine, be mine, be mine! THE DEATH OF POETRY They tell us that the poet's day is past, That Song no more shall gush from human heart; They tell us all the old dreams must depart, The old ideals by the way be cast. What babbling...
Page 58 - All men are my brothers, the world is my home. Wherever we meet, on sea or on sod, We are brethren of Christ, we are children of God. They may prattle of Codes, or prate of their Creeds — I care not for these, but for brotherly deeds.
Page 3 - SONGS OF EAST AND WEST BY WALTER MALONE JOHN P. MORTON & COMPANY LOUISVILLE COPYRIGHT, 1906 BY WALTER MAI.ONK INDEX.