HOW the lilacs, the lilacs are glowing and blowing! And white through the delicate verdure of May The blossoming boughs of the hawthorn are showing, Like beautiful brides in their…
Mathilde Blind British author, was born at Mannheim on the 21st of March 1841. Her father was a banker named Cohen, but she took the name of Blind after her step-father, the political writer, Karl Blind (1826—1907), one of the exiled leaders of the Baden insurrection in 1848—1849, and an ardent supporter of the various 19th-century movements for the freedom and autonomy of struggling nationalities. The family was compelled to take refuge in England, where Mathilde devoted herself to literature and to the higher education of women. She produced also three long poems, “The Prophecy of St Oran” (1881), “The Heather on Fire” , (1886), an ‘indignant protest against the evictions in the Highlands , and “The Ascent of Man” (1888), which was to be the epic of the theory of evolution. She wrote biographies of George Eliot (1883) and Madame Roland (1886), and translated D.F. Strauss’s The Old Faith and the New’ (1873—1874) and the Memoirs of Marie Bashkirtse , (1890). She died on the 26th of November 1896, bequeathing her property to Newnbam College, Cambridge.)
Mathilde Blind şiirleri
"Hush, hush! Speak softly, Mother dear, So that the daisies may not hear; For when the stars begin to peep, The pretty daisies go to sleep.…
Only a dream, a beautiful baseless dream; Only a bright Flash from your eyes, a brief electrical gleam, Charged with delight.…
I was an Arab, I loved my horse; Swift as an arrow He swept the course.…
I. I will take your thoughts to my heart; I will keep and garner them there…
Ah, if you knew how soon and late My eyes long for a sight of you Sometimes in passing by my gate You'd linger until fall of dew,…
Ah, yesterday was dark and drear, My heart was deadly sore; Without thy love it seemed, my Dear, That I could live no more.…
All my heart is stirring lightly Like dim violets winter-bound, Quickening as they feel the brightly Glowing sunlight underground.…
Like a great rock which looming o'er the deep Casts his eternal shadow on the strands, And veiled in cloud inexorably stands, While vaulting round his adamantine steep…
HIS Eve of Women! She, whose mortal lot Was linked to an Immortal's unaware, With Love's lost Eden in her blissful air, Perchance would greet him in this blessed spot.…
IS this the Cottage, ivy-girt and crowned, And this the path down which our Shakespeare ran, When, in the April of his love, sweet Anne Made all his mighty pulses throb and bound;…
BETWEEN the sandhills and the sea A narrow strip of silver sand, Whereon a little maid doth stand, Who picks up shells continually…
The year is on the wing, my love, With tearful days and nights; The clouds are on the wing above With gathering swallow-flights.…
Blossom of the apple trees! Mossy trunks all gnarled and hoary, Grey boughs tipped with rose-veined glory, Clustered petals soft as fleece…
The April rain, the April rain, Comes slanting down in fitful showers, Then from the furrow shoots the grain, And banks are fledged with nestling flowers;…
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