This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1914 edition. Excerpt: ... FORENOON BY THE PACIFIC The winds are far away; The sea alone hath speech. The killdees play In little hollows of the kelp-strewn beach. Beyond, a wisp of fog has come to rest Upon the mountain's breast. Here from a western steep I watch the sea-gull soar; Below, the deep Darts a white chord along the curving ...
Read More
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1914 edition. Excerpt: ... FORENOON BY THE PACIFIC The winds are far away; The sea alone hath speech. The killdees play In little hollows of the kelp-strewn beach. Beyond, a wisp of fog has come to rest Upon the mountain's breast. Here from a western steep I watch the sea-gull soar; Below, the deep Darts a white chord along the curving shore And brims the day with thunder. At my feet The unshaken dews are sweet. The hour is full of peace Too tenderly profound To fail or cease At any call of lark, or ocean-sound. Where lonely waters meet a loner sky The winds of morning die. A LEGEND OF THE DOVE Soft from the linden's bough, Unmoved against the tranquil afternoon, Eve's dove laments her now: "Ah, gone! long gone! shall not I find thee soon?" That yearning in his voice Told not to Paradise a sorrow's tale: As other birds rejoice He sang, a brother to the nightingale. By twilight on her breast He saw the flower sleep, the star awake; And calling her from rest, Made all the dawn melodious for her sake. A LEGEND OF THE DOVE And then the Tempter's breath, The sword of exile and the mortal chain--The heritage of death That gave her heart to dust, his own to pain.... In Eden desolate The seraph heard his lonely music swoon, As now, reiterate: "Ah, gone! long gone! shall not I find thee soon?" SAID THE WIND: I and my brothers are ocean-born, And the dusk-blue reaches were our home. Joyous, hardly old as the foam, There we ran on a crystal morn. North and south we swung in our play, Life and laugh of the world's unrest. I, deserting, fled to the west, Swift and strong on the path of the day. Day was victor in that mad flight--Gone with a step from the sea to land. There, like stars upcast on the strand, A city blazed on the fallen night. SAID THE WIND Thither drawn, I crept in its...
Read Less
Choose your shipping method in Checkout. Costs may vary based on destination.
Seller's Description:
PLEASE NOTE, WE DO NOT SHIP TO DENMARK. New Book. Shipped from UK in 4 to 14 days. Established seller since 2000. Please note we cannot offer an expedited shipping service from the UK.
Choose your shipping method in Checkout. Costs may vary based on destination.
Seller's Description:
PLEASE NOTE, WE DO NOT SHIP TO DENMARK. New Book. Shipped from UK in 4 to 14 days. Established seller since 2000. Please note we cannot offer an expedited shipping service from the UK.
Choose your shipping method in Checkout. Costs may vary based on destination.
Seller's Description:
Very Good. Octavo. 141pp An exlibrary copy but with minimal defects. No pocket, spine has been doctored to eliminate the call number, ghost of plate removal on front endpaper. Inscribed/signed by Sterling to Swedish author/literary critic Edwin Bjorkman in 1915. Sterling has made a hand correction in the text on page 24. Inscribed By Author.