Thomas Bailey Aldrich

Upon the cunning loom of thought
We weave our fancies, so and so.

Upon the cunning loom of thought
We weave our fancies, so and so.

These Winter nights against my window-pane
Nature with busy pencil draws designs
Of ferns and blossoms and read more

These Winter nights against my window-pane
Nature with busy pencil draws designs
Of ferns and blossoms and fine spray of pines,
Oak-leaf and acorn and fantastic vines,
Which she will make when summer comes again--
Quaint arabesques in argent, flat and cold,
Like curious Chinese etchings.

Dear Lord, though I be changed to senseless clay,
And serve the Potter as he turn his wheel,
read more

Dear Lord, though I be changed to senseless clay,
And serve the Potter as he turn his wheel,
I thank Thee for the gracious gift of tears!

We knew it would rain, for the poplars showed
The white of their leaves, the amber grain
read more

We knew it would rain, for the poplars showed
The white of their leaves, the amber grain
Shrunk in the wind,--and the lightning now
Is tangled in tremulous skeins of rain.

What is lovely never dies,
But passes into other loveliness,
Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air.

What is lovely never dies,
But passes into other loveliness,
Star-dust, or sea-foam, flower or winged air.