RobinAnn23

My Beloved lifts up his voice, he says to me, Come then, my love, my lovely one, come. For see, winter is past, the rains are over and gone. The flowers appear on the Earth. The season of glad songs has come, the cooing of the dove is heard in our land. Come then, my love, my lovely one, come. My dove, hiding in the clefts of the rock, in the coverts of the cliff, Show me your face, let me hear your voice., for your voice is sweet and your being is beautiful. My Beloved is mine and I am his. Before the dawn wind rises, before the shadows flee, return! Be, my Beloved, On my forever thoughts at night, I

Who, in some placid days of Summer, looks down from a mountain top, to one of those high peaks, that bound the vale - where now we are. Faint, and diminished to the gazing eye., forested fields and hill, to infinite skies appear, with all the shapes over their surface spread:   But, while the gross and visible frame of things..   relinquishes its hold upon the senses. Yet though almost on my quivering mind, and seem all unsubstantial, how loud - the voice of waters with invigorating peace, from the full ocean's in silence winds blow. Serenity!   For on that splendored height., who sits, is disencumbered from the pres

October Robert Frost O hushed October morning mild, Thy leaves have ripened to the fall; Tomorrow's wind, if it be wild, Should waste them all. The crows above the forest call; Tomorrow they may form and go. O hushed October morning mild, Begin the hours of this day slow. Make the day seem to us less brief. Hearts not averse to being beguiled, Beguile us in the way you know. Release one leaf at break of day; At noon release another leaf; one from our trees, one far away. Retard the sun with gentle mist; Enchant the land with amethyst. Slow, slow! For the grapes' sake, if the were all, Whose leaves already are burnt with fr