Thomas Buchanan Read (1822 – 1872)
American poet, was a portrait-painter, and lived much abroad.
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Within the sober realm of leafless trees,
The russet year inhaled the dreamy air;
Like some tanned reaper, in his hour of ease,
When all the fields are lying brown and bare.
With dreamful eyes
My spirit lies
Under the walls of Paradise.
The terrible rumble, grumble and roar
Telling the battle was on once more—
And Sheridan twenty miles away!
We bring roses, beautiful fresh roses,
Dewy as the morning and colored like the dawn.
Yon deep bark goes
Where Traffic blows
From lands of sun to lands of snows;—
Yon happier one,
Its course is run
From lands of snow to lands of sun.
My soul to-day
Is far away
Sailing the Vesuvian Bay.
O Night! most beautiful and rare!
Thou givest the heavens their holiest hue,
And through the azure fields of air
Bring’st down the gentle dew.
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