Lyrics of life and love / by William Stanley Braithwaite [electronic text]

About this Item

Title

Lyrics of life and love / by William Stanley Braithwaite [electronic text]

Author

Braithwaite, William Stanley, 1878-1962.

Publication

Boston: Herbert B. Turner & Co.

1904

Rights/Permissions

The University of Michigan Library provides access to these materials for educational and research purposes. These materials are in the public domain in the United States. If you have questions about the collection please contact Digital Content & Collections at [email protected], or if you have concerns about the inclusion of an item in this collection, please contact Library Information Technology at [email protected].This text is accessible through several mechanisms or formats: a version in TEI-conformant SGML is accessible at: http://www.hti.umich.edu/english/amverse/texts/BraitLyric.sgm ; a version in HTML is accessible at: http://www.hti.umich.edu/bin/amv-idx.pl?id=BraitLyric ; the American Verse Project collection (with search across all texts) can be found at: http://www.hti.umich.edu/english/amverse/

DPLA Rights Statement: No Copyright - United States

Link to this Item

http://name.umdl.umich.edu/BAC5600.0001.001

Cite this Item

"Lyrics of life and love / by William Stanley Braithwaite [electronic text]." In the digital collection American Verse Project. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/BAC5600.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed May 29, 2025.

Pages

ON A PRESSED FLOWER IN MY COPY OF KEATS

 AS Keats' old honeyed volume of romance I oped to-day to drink its Latmos air, I found all pressed a white flower lying where The shepherd lad watched Pan's herd slow advance. Ah, then what tender memories did chance To bring again the day, when from your hair, This frail carnation, delicate and fair, You gave me, that I now might taste its trance. And so to-day it brings a mellow dream Of that sweet time when but to hear you speak Filled all my soul. What waves of passion seem About this flower to linger and to break, Lit by the glamor of the moon's pale beam The while my heart weeps for this dear flower's sake.