Lizette Woodworth Reese

(January 9, 1856 – December 17, 1935 / Waverly)

Lizette Woodworth Reese Poems

1. A Song For Candlemas 12/17/2011
2. Thomas À Kempis 12/17/2011
3. All Hallows Night 6/3/2015
4. To A Town Poet 12/17/2011
5. Writ In A Book Of Welsh Verse 12/17/2011
6. Trust 12/17/2011
7. A Violin At Dusk 12/1/2014
8. Lydia 12/17/2011
9. Anne 12/17/2011
10. A Holiday 12/17/2011
11. Reserve 12/17/2011
12. Lydia Is Gone This Many A Year 12/17/2011
13. Keats 12/17/2011
14. Telling The Bees 12/17/2011
15. Mid-March 12/17/2011
16. Immortality 12/17/2011
17. Daffodils 12/17/2011
18. The Deserted House 12/17/2011
19. A Flower Of Mullein 12/17/2011
20. Herbs 12/17/2011
21. A Little Song Of Life 12/17/2011
22. A Haunting Memory 12/17/2011
23. After 12/17/2011
24. Wise 4/21/2010
25. The Good Joan 4/21/2010
26. In Time Of Grief 12/17/2011
27. A Christmas Folk-Song 4/21/2010
28. That Day You Came 1/4/2003
29. Love Came Back At Fall O’ Dew 1/4/2003
30. Oh, Gray And Tender Is The Rain 1/13/2003
31. Spicewood 1/13/2003
32. A Rhyme Of Death's Inn 1/4/2003
33. Tears 1/4/2003
Best Poem of Lizette Woodworth Reese

Tears

When I consider Life and its few years --
A wisp of fog betwixt us and the sun;
A call to battle, and the battle done
Ere the last echo dies within our ears;
A rose choked in the grass; an hour of fears;
The gusts that past a darkening shore do beat;
The burst of music down an unlistening street, --
I wonder at the idleness of tears.
Ye old, old dead, and ye of yesternight,
Chieftains, and bards, and keepers of the sheep,
By every cup of sorrow that you had,
Loose me from tears, and make me see aright
How each hath back what once he stayed to ...

Read the full of Tears

Spicewood

The spicewood burns along the gray, spent sky,
In moist unchimneyed places, in a wind,
That whips it all before, and all behind,
Into one thick, rude flame, now low, now high,
It is the first, the homeliest thing of all--
At sight of it, that lad that by it fares,
Whistles afresh his foolish, town-caught airs--
A thing so honey-colored, and so tall!

[Hata Bildir]