Home › By Author › W. D. Howells
Quotes by W. D. Howells
Out of the fragrant heart of bloom, The bobolinks are singing; Out of the fragrant heart of bloom The apple-tree whispers to the room, "Why art thou but a nest of gloom While the bobolinks are singing?"— filed under Birds-Canary
The little wind that hardly shook The silver of the sleeping brook Blew the gold hair about her eyes, - A mystery of mysteries. So he must often pause, and stoop, And all the wanton ringlets loop Behind her dainty ear-emprise Of slow event and many sighs.— filed under Hair
Sonnet XIX. Is it the shrewd October wind Brings the tears into her eyes? Does it blow so strong that she must fetch Her breath in sudden sighs?— filed under Months-October