Poems by Henry Timrod
The Stream Is Flowing From The West
... Dear stream! some moons must wax and wane ...
On Pressing Some Flowers
... Oh, heart! could love but lend the power, ...
Sonnet VIII "At Last, Beloved Nature! I Have Met"
... But, climbing, only reached that shrine to feel ...
Sonnet IX "I Know Not Why, But All This Weary Day"
... Lo! A league of desolate marsh-land, with its lush, ...
