Cupid has offered his arrows for Jesus to try; He has offered his bow for the game. But Jesus went weeping away, and left him there wondering why.
Harold Monro
When the tea is brought at five o'clock And all the neat curtains are drawn with care, The little black cat with bright green eyes Is suddenly purring there.
bright black care eyes tea green cat purring
When the tea is brought at five o'clockAnd all the neat curtains are drawn with care, The little black cat with bright green eyesIs suddenly purring there.
cats tea
The white saucer like some full moon descendsAt last from the clouds of the table above; She sighs and dreams and thrills and glows, Transfigured with love. She nestles over the shining rim, Buries her chin in the creamy sea; Her tail hangs loose; each drowsy pawIs doubled under each bending knee.A long, dim ecstasy holds her life; Her world is an infinite shapeless white, Till her tongue has curled the last holy drop, Then she sinks back into the night, Draws and dips her body to heapHer sleepy nerves in the great arm-chair, Lies defeated and buried deepThree or four hours unconscious there.
cats milk
What I saw was just one eyeIn the dawn as I was going: A bird can carry all the skyIn that little button glowing. Never in my life I wentSo deep into the firmament.
sky dawn birds
Here is the soundless cypress on the lawn: It listens, listens. Taller trees beyondListen. The moon at the unruffled pondStares. And you sing, you sing. That star-enchanted song falls through the airFrom lawn to lawn down terraces of sound, Darts in white arrows on the shadowed ground; And all the night you sing. My dreams are flowers to which you are a beeAs all night long I listen, and my brainReceives your song, then loses it againIn moonlight on the lawn. Now is your voice a marble high and white, Then like a mist on fields of paradise, Now is a raging fire, then is like ice, Then breaks, and it is dawn.
song birds
O gentle vision in the dawn: My spirit over faint cool water glides, Child of the day, To thee; And thou art drawnBy kindred impulse over silver tidesThe dreamy wayTo me.
dawn elves fairies
O cool glad pasture; living tree, tall corn, Great cliff, or languid sloping sand, cold sea, Waves: river curving; you, eternal flowers, Give me content, while I can think of you: Give me your living breath! Back to your rampart, Death!
content death
game games
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