The Little Book of Modern Verse; a selection from the work of contemporaneous American poets by Unknown
page 104 of 283 (36%)
page 104 of 283 (36%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
The Prince. [Josephine Dodge Daskam]
My heart it was a cup of gold That at his lip did long to lie, But he hath drunk the red wine down, And tossed the goblet by. My heart it was a floating bird That through the world did wander free, But he hath locked it in a cage, And lost the silver key. My heart it was a white, white rose That bloomed upon a broken bough, He did but wear it for an hour, And it is withered now. Four Winds. [Sara Teasdale] "Four winds blowing thro' the sky, You have seen poor maidens die, Tell me then what I shall do That my lover may be true." |
|