All in November's soaking mist We stand and prune the naked tree, While all our love and interest Seem quenched in the blue-nosed misery.
The lily in splendor, the vine in her grace, The fox in the forest, all had their desire, As then I had mine, in the place that was happy and poor. - Ruth Pitter
The lily in splendor, the vine in her grace, The fox in the forest, all had their desire, As then I had mine, in the place that was happy and poor.
- Ruth Pitter
But the summits of poetry are mysteries; they are shiftingly veiled, and those who catch the glimpses see different aspects of the transcendental; bu… - Ruth Pitter
But the summits of poetry are mysteries; they are shiftingly veiled, and those who catch the glimpses see different aspects of the transcendental; bu…
Vain vision! when the changing world each day Sees some such lordly pleasance pass away; When the mere stripling knows my symbols all Worn tokes, hea… - Ruth Pitter
Vain vision! when the changing world each day Sees some such lordly pleasance pass away; When the mere stripling knows my symbols all Worn tokes, hea…
We go in withering July To ply the hard incessant hoe; Panting beneath the brazen sky We sweat and grumble, but we go. - Ruth Pitter
We go in withering July To ply the hard incessant hoe; Panting beneath the brazen sky We sweat and grumble, but we go.
What do we look for as reward? Some little sounds, and scents, and scenes A small hand darting strawberry-ward A woman's aprons full of greens. The s… - Ruth Pitter
What do we look for as reward? Some little sounds, and scents, and scenes A small hand darting strawberry-ward A woman's aprons full of greens. The s…
All in November's soaking mist We stand and prune the naked tree, While all our love and interest Seem quenched in the blue-nosed misery. - Ruth Pitter
Poor comfort all comfort: once what the mouse had spared Was enough, was delight, there where the heart was at home - Ruth Pitter
Poor comfort all comfort: once what the mouse had spared Was enough, was delight, there where the heart was at home
One's homesickness for Heaven finds at least an inn there; and it's an inn on the right road. - Ruth Pitter
One's homesickness for Heaven finds at least an inn there; and it's an inn on the right road.
To win the trophy of enchanting grace: Ranks of Carnations, to all ladies dear, Of whose sweet taste I write approval here, For these pre-eminent mys… - Ruth Pitter
To win the trophy of enchanting grace: Ranks of Carnations, to all ladies dear, Of whose sweet taste I write approval here, For these pre-eminent mys…
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