We say of the oak, How grand of girth! Of the willow we say, How slender! And yet to the soft grass clothing the earth How slight is the praise we render. — Edgar Fawcett Copy Share Image
At some glad moment was it nature's choice to dower a scrap of sunset with a voice? — Edgar Fawcett Copy Share Image
“{ Letter from Fawcett to the great Robert Ingersoll , 1894 } I do so wish, that, in all these big questions, literary men would take you more for a guide than they do, or seem to do. You have, of course, an immense constituency; but your love of letters and your deeply poetic spirit render you worthy of a… — Edgar Fawcett Copy Share
January is here, with eyes that keenly glow, A frost-mailed warrior striding a shadowy steed of snow. — Edgar Fawcett Copy Share Image
We say of the oak, How grand of girth! Of the willow we say, How slender! And yet to the soft grass clothing the… — Edgar Fawcett Copy Share Image
