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Other People Who Read The House of the Seven Gables Also Read


 
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Betwixt New Loves and Newer Loves

By: Gerald Crow

Poetry

Excerpt: Betwixt new loves and newer loves // Have me not utterly out of mind, // While yet to common praise unfurled // The banner of your beauty moves, // And I am dust upon the wind // That blows my name about the world. // Remember how to-night I crept // Into your bed as lovers do, // And trafficed not with love, but laid // My body by your body and wept // Because of shame at making you // So light a thing as others made.

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The Lily Bed

By: Isabella Valancy Crawford

Poetry

Excerpt: HIS cedar paddle, scented, red, // He thrust down through the lily bed; // Cloaked in a golden pause he lay, // Locked in the arms of the placid bay. // Trembled alone his bark canoe // As shocks of bursting lilies flew // Thro' the still crystal of the tide, // And smote the frail boat's birchen side; // Or, when beside the sedges thin // Rose the sharp silver of a fin; // Or when, a wizard swift and cold, // A dragon-fly beat on in gold // And jewels all the w...

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A Hymn of the Nativity, Sung by the Shepherds

By: Richard Crashaw

Poetry

Excerpt: Chorus. // COME we shepherds who have seen // Day's king deposed by Night's queen. // Come lift we up our lofty song, // To wake the Sun that sleeps too long. // He in this our general joy, // Slept, and dreamt of no such thing // While we found out the fair-ey'd boy, // And kissed the cradle of our king; // Tell him he rises now too late, // To show us aught worth looking at. // Tell him we now can show him more // Than he e'er show'd to mortal sight, // Than h...

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Out of Catallus

By: Richard Crashaw

Poetry

Excerpt: COME and let us live my Dear, // Let us love and never fear, // What the sourest Fathers say: // Brightest Sol that dies today // Lives again as blithe tomorrow, // But if we dark sons of sorrow // Set; o then, how long a Night // Shuts the Eyes of our short light! // Then let amorous kisses dwell // On our lips, begin to tell // A Thousand, and a Hundred, score // An Hundred, and a Thousand more, // Till another Thousand smother // That, and that wipe off anoth...

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Dirge

By: Adelaide Crapsey

Poetry

Excerpt: NEVER the nightingale, // Oh, my dear, // Never again the lark // Thou wilt hear; // Though dusk and the morning still // Tap at thy window-sill, // Though ever love call and call // Thou wilt not hear at all, // My dear, my dear. // Adelaide Crapsey // The Lonely Death // IN the cold I will rise, I will bathe // In waters of ice; myself // Will shiver, and shrive myself, // Alone in the dawn, and anoint // Forehead and feet and hands; // I will shutter the wind...

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