Robert Fuller Murray

(1863 - 1894 / United States)

Robert Fuller Murray Poems

1. The Wasted Day 5/13/2015
2. For A Present Of Roses 1/3/2003
3. Moonlight North And South 1/3/2003
4. Poets 1/3/2003
5. Make-Believes 1/3/2003
6. The Haunted Chamber 1/3/2003
7. Make-Believes 4/21/2010
8. The Banished Bejant 4/21/2010
9. The Best Pipe 4/21/2010
10. Reflections Of A Magistrand 4/21/2010
11. Indolence 1/3/2003
12. The Fiddler 1/3/2003
13. Song From ‘the Princess’ 4/21/2010
14. The Close Of The Session 4/21/2010
15. Music For The Dying 4/21/2010
16. The Burial Of William - The Conqueror 1/3/2003
17. Song Is Not Dead 1/3/2003
18. The Caged Thrush 1/3/2003
19. Love's Worship Restored 1/3/2003
20. In Time Of Sorrow 1/3/2003
21. Requiem 1/3/2003
22. On A Crushed Hat 4/21/2010
23. Milton 4/21/2010
24. Sweetheart 4/21/2010
25. The End Of April 4/21/2010
26. My Lady 1/3/2003
27. Dawn Song 1/3/2003
28. In Time Of Doubt 1/3/2003
29. Lost At Sea 4/21/2010
30. Pleasant Prophecies 4/21/2010
31. Where's The Use? 1/3/2003
32. Partnership In Fame 1/3/2003
33. Stanzas For Music 4/21/2010
34. Imitated From Wordsworth 1/3/2003
35. An Orator’s Complaint 4/21/2010
36. Midnight 1/3/2003
37. An Interview 1/3/2003
38. Sleep Flies Me 1/3/2003
39. Tears 1/3/2003
40. The First Meeting 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Robert Fuller Murray

A December Day

Blue, blue is the sea to-day,
Warmly the light
Sleeps on St. Andrews Bay --
Blue, fringed with white.

That's no December sky!
Surely 'tis June
Holds now her state on high,
Queen of the noon.

Only the tree-tops bare
Crowning the hill,
Clear-cut in perfect air,
Warn us that still

Winter, the aged chief,
Mighty in power,
Exiles the tender leaf,
Exiles the flower.

Is there a heart to-day,
A heart that grieves
For flowers that fade away,
For fallen leaves?

Oh, not in leaves or flowers
Endures the...

Read the full of A December Day

In Time Of Sickness

Lost Youth, come back again!
Laugh at weariness and pain.
Come not in dreams, but come in truth,
Lost Youth.

Sweetheart of long ago,
Why do you haunt me so?
Were you not glad to part,
Sweetheart?

Still Death, that draws so near,
Is it hope you bring, or fear?
Is it only ease of breath,
Still Death?

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