Robert Crawford(1868 - 13 January 1930 / Australia)
A Song Of The Sea.
- by Robert Crawford92
Here within the half-light 'tween the night and day Upon the sands I lie, with thoughts that idly stirr'd Seem, as in a dream, with life and death to play, As o'er the sea there flits a pale white bird. In my heart I hear it, the murmur of the sea, Ah! and memories of other lives are stirr'd, As somewise there came a mystic voice to me As o'er the sea there flits a pale white bird. Who but knows that in me is a ghost that hears A voice it heard of old in the primeval word — A memory so dim, it like a dream appears As o'er the sea there flits a pale white bird!
Beauty, Its Effect.
- by Robert Crawford85
I have been touched with her, and have ta'en (Unclear The acquaintance of her beauty like a dream, Or as it were a flower of Faerie breathed By an immortal; for the light and air Of life and love so, so endue her, she Puts on and off the sweetest favours like The momentary raiment that A goddess dons and doffs.
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