Search results for 'Murmuring Pine'

southern moss and jessamine mate,
Neath the murmuring pines of the Old North State!

Here's to the land where the galax grows,
Where the rhododendron's

lake, with black rock bound
And the tall pines that towered around

But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all
And the mystic

with black rock bound
And the tall pines that towered around
But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all
And the mystic wind went

The Lake

Nolwenn Leroy

Gemme

2017

lake, with black rock bound
And the tall pines that towered around

But when the Night had thrown her pall
Upon that spot, as upon all
And the mystic

lend
Tongues to the leaves
When brooklet ripples fall
With murmuring sound
And moon is found
Among the pine-trees tall
While softly rings
The wind its

Hylas chant for me
Delicate prayers of the spring
Trilling their praise at the water's green edge
Seated in temples of cattail and sedge
Murmuring

Vocal fry
Hmm
Aleatoric murmuring of tree names
Hmm
About five-hundred species of trees
About five-hundred species of trees
About five-hundred

Solitude

Agathodaimon

Gothic Rock [ZYX]

2007

for me a bed
Or twigs entwine

When brooklet ripples fall
With murmuring sound
And moon is found
Among the pine trees tall

While softly rings
The wind

pine
Whose sounds mine inner sense is fain to bring
Continually together, murmuring
Woe's me for thee, unhappy Proserpine!

Just beyond what you can see
There's a pasture sewn with sunshine
Greener than the emerald of the pine
Just like ribbons in the breeze
Cursive murals

With black rock bound
And the tall pines
That towered around
But when the Night
Had thrown her pall
Upon that spot
As upon all
And the mystic wind
Went

lake, with black rock bound, 
And the tall pines that towered around.

But when the Night had thrown her pall 
Upon that spot, as upon all,

So lovely was the loneliness
     Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,
     And the tall pines that tower'd around.
     But when the Night had

pine-trees sough,
So we hear our spirits soar.
Glorious is the fiery glow
In the red dawn,
Or the flashes that light up the fields,
Often pregnant with death.

blind
Murmuring music falls
Never to rise again

Voice of the leaves that die
Whisper and sigh
Of ruinous gardens waning
Rose by ungathered rose
Dolor