Poems of Passion

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Albert, Whitman & Company, 1911 - New Thought - 160 pages
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Review: Poems of Passion

User Review  - Lucy - Goodreads

Mmmm. Only 1 poem, 'That Day', got this collection a second star. Just too overblown. Read full review

Review: Poems of Passion

User Review  - Goodreads

Mmmm. Only 1 poem, 'That Day', got this collection a second star. Just too overblown. Read full review

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Page 76 - weak, Or fail me in my darkest hour of need; Why perish with the ship that springs a leak, Or lean upon a reed? Give me new love, warm, palpitating, sweet, When all the grace and beauty leaves the old; When like a rose it withers at my feet, Or like a hearth grows cold.
Page 11 - high and higher, Like lightnings that precede the mighty storm; In the deep, soulful stillness; in the warm, Impassioned tide that sweeps through throbbing veins, Between the shores of keen delights and pains; In the embrace where madness melts in bliss, And in the convulsive rapture of a kiss— Thus doth Love speak.
Page 132 - Feast, and your halls are crowded; Fast, and the world goes by. Succeed and give, and it helps you live, But no man can help you die. There is room in the halls of pleasure For a large and lordly train, But one by one we must all file on Through the narrow aisles of pain. THE YEAR OUTGROWS THE SPRING. HP HE year outgrows the spring it thought so sweet
Page 141 - The golden glory of Love's light May never fall on my way; My path may always lead through night, Like some deserted by-way. But though life's dearest joy I miss There lies a nameless strength in this— I will be worthy of it.
Page 65 - Too warm for a friend, and too cold for a lover— There was nothing else to say; But the lights looked dim, and the dancers weary, And the music was sad and the hall was dreary, After you went away.
Page 153 - gall, And then with generous, open hands kneel, giving Unto the dead our all? Why do we pierce the warm hearts, sin or sorrow, With idle jests, or scorn, or cruel sneers, And when it cannot know, on some tomorrow, Speak of its woe through tears? What do the dead care for the tender token— The love, the praise, the floral offerings?
Page 16 - IT is a common fate—a woman's lot— To waste on one the riches of her soul, Who takes the wealth she gives him, but cannot Repay the interest, and much less the whole.
Page 76 - OLD AND NEW. I ONG have the poets vaunted, in their lays, *-"' Old times, old loves, old friendship, and old wine. Why should the old monopolize all praise? Then let the new claim mine. Give me strong new friends, when the old prove weak,
Page 115 - the firm clasp of his hand on mine; Through all my veins it sent a strengthening glow. I straightway linked my arm in his, and lo! He led me forth to joys almost divine; With God's great truths enriched me in the end.
Page 159 - so absurd— She hasn'ta decent feature." Then the old Marsh Hen went hopping about She said she was sure—she hadn'ta doubt— Of the truth of each bird's story: And she thought it a duty to stop her flight To pull her down from her lofty height, And take the gilt from her glory. But, lo! from a peak on the mountain

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