Robert Burns Wilson Poems

A DARKENED hut outlined against the sky,
A forward-looking slope,—some cedar trees,
Gaunt grasses stirred by the awaking breeze,
...

IT is in Winter that we dream of Spring;
For all the barren bleakness and the cold,
The longing fancy sees the frozen mould
...

SUCH is the death the soldier dies:
He falls,—the column speeds away;
Upon the dabbled grass he lies,
His brave heart following, still, the fray.
...

BROAD bars of sunset-slanted gold
Are laid along the field, and here
The silence sings, as if some old
Refrain, that once rang long and clear,
...

BOLD, amiable, ebon outlaw, grave and wise!
For many a good green year hast thou withstood—
By dangerous, planted field and haunted wood—
...

SURE and exact,—the master’s quiet touch,
Thus perfect, was his art;
Ambitious, generous, sad, and loving much,
Was his pain-haunted heart.
...

The braggart March stood in the season's door
With his broad shoulders blocking up the way,
Shaking the snow-flakes from the cloak he wore,
...