Sweet Eyes Of Blue.

    Sweet eyes of blue! The stars by night,
    That swoon the world with laughing light,
        And touch the hills with tender glow
        While all the vales are kissed below,
    Beside you would no more be bright.

    My worlds ye are, and while I throw
    My heart to catch the beams that flow
        From your fair shrine, my woes take flight,
        Sweet eyes of blue!

    Glad orbs of beauty! In your sight
    My soul mounts up with secret might,
        Till Eden's lovely bowers I know;
        And as through Heaven's gates I go,
    The pleasures all my sorrow smite,
        Sweet eyes of blue!

Freeman Edwin Miller

Freeman Edwin Miller was an American poet, journalist, and teacher, best known for his work in Oklahoma. Born on November 9, 1864, in New Jersey, Miller moved to Oklahoma in 1894, where he became a prominent figure in the literary and educational communities. He is remembered for his contributions to early Oklahoma literature, as well as his work in promoting education and journalism in the region. He passed away on July 14, 1951.

Freeman Edwin Miller

Quaff The Glass, The Wine Is Red.

Freeman Edwin Miller, Simple Poetry

Spinsterhood.

Freeman Edwin Miller, Simple Poetry

Love, Thou Gayest Fancy-Weaver.

Freeman Edwin Miller, Simple Poetry

Years That Are To Be.

Freeman Edwin Miller, Simple Poetry

English

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Sweet Fairies From The Isles Of Song.

    Sweet fairies from the isles of song,
        Bewitching choirs from music land,
        The pleasures of your wondrous band
    Once wooed me from the ways of wrong;
    Once won my heart with fond caress
        To sacred vales of summer glees,
        Till carols fraught with lullabies
    Filled all my soul with blessedness!

    My yearnings miss those gentle sprites,
        Whose laughing lips and angel eyes
        And voices ever winsome-wise,
    Bedewed my dreams with new delights;
    For in the sad hours of my pain
        I hold them as I hold the dead,
        And trust that in the vales they tread,
    My hands shall clasp their hands again.

    From those glad meadows where they play
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Her Beautiful Eyes.

    O her beautiful eyes! they are as blue as the dew
    On the violet's bloom when the morning is new,
    And the light of their love is the gleam of the sun
    O'er the meadows of Spring where the quick shadows run:
    As the morn shirts the mists and the clouds from the skies -
    So I stand in the dawn of her beautiful eyes.

    And her beautiful eyes are as midday to me,
    When the lily-bell bends with the weight of the bee,
    And the throat of the thrush is a-pulse in the heat,
    And the senses are drugged with the subtle and sweet
    And delirious breaths of the air's lullabies -
    So I swoon in the noon of her beautiful eyes.

    O her beautiful eyes! they have smitten mine own
    As a glory glanced down from the glare of The Throne;
 ...

James Whitcomb Riley

O, Gentle Shade Of Quiet Woods.

    O, gentle shade of quiet woods,
        Where nature dwells in leafy halls,
        I love the sacred voice that falls
    In music o'er thy solitudes!
    Within thine arms the weary heart
        Is hidden from the toils of men,
    And pleasure makes ambition start
        Into a nobler life again.

    Among the fragrant shadows throng
        With all the riches of their truth,
        Glad echoes from the days of youth
    And mingle into laughing song;
    While angel fingers touch the keys
        That slumber in the silent breast,
    Till mem'ry wakes her lullabies
        And childhood fancies rock to rest.

    Again the hours of early joy
        Upon the aged years intrude,
        And dance amid the summer wood
    T...

Freeman Edwin Miller

In The Vales.

    When from these vales I go,
        That slumber on in dreams,
    O, will the summer winds dance to and fro,
        And kiss the streams
    That play where roses scatter fond perfume
    And lilies burst with bloom?

    Glad children of the spring,
        They moan their music sweet
    Where tangled grasses wave, and softly sing
        Where meadows meet,
    And wildwood shadows drooping bless
    The groves with happiness.

    Their soothing songs I hear
        Among the granite hills,
    Above the elfin warbles rich and clear
        From rippling rills,
    As if they called my soul in future days
    To wander all their ways.

    Ah, moaning winds, you seem
        To fill my musing breast
    With lullabi...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Away, Away, From The Sultry Ways.

    Away, away, from the sultry ways
        Where the pleasures fall and fade,
    To the bannered corn and the meadowed bloom
        And the forest's cooling shade!

    Afar, afar, from the rooms of care
        With the toils of life distressed,
    To the grassy hills and the fragrant slopes
        And the quiet vales of rest!

    Away from the weary, dusty town,
        Where the sorrows dim the days,
    To the sleeping lake and the silent stream
        And the wildwood's tangled ways!

    To margins wide of the woodland pools,
        Where the wild birds troll their songs,
    Where the lilies laugh and the willows wave,
        And the pleasures dance in throngs!

    The dark-eyed nymphs and the fairy elves
        In t...

Freeman Edwin Miller

Within Thine Eyes.

Within thine eyes two spirits dwell,
The sweetest and the purest
That ever wove Love's mystic spell,
Or plied his arts the surest:
        No smile of morn,
        Though heaven-born,
Nor sunshine earthward straying,
        E'er charmed the sight
        With half the light
That round thy lips is playing.

The stars may shine, the moon may smile,
The earth in beauty languish,
Life's sorrows these can but beguile,
But thou canst heal its anguish.
        Thy voice, like rills
        Of silver, trills
Such sounds of liquid sweetness,
        Each accent rolls
        Along our souls,
In lyrical completeness.

If Friendship lend thee such a grace,
That men nor gods may slight it,
How blest the one who views thy face

Charles Sangster