Theodore H. (Theodore Harding) Rand

TO EMELINE.   would enshrine in silvern songThe charm that bore our souls along,As in the sun-flushed days of summerWe felt the pulsings of nature's throng; When flecks of foam of flying spraySmote white the red sun's torrid ray,Or wimpling fogs toyed with the mountain,Aërial spirits of dew at play; When hovering stars, poised in the blue,Came down and ever closer drew;Or, in the autumn air... more...