Articles on George Sterling

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I did not meet him in the gleaming years That made the great friendships and the earlier fame, The carnival time when wine...

His song shall waken the dull-sleeping throng, That dreams of sullen and of earth-bound things; He soars with Beauty where the...

The Spring will come with all her vernal buds, The while the rains pour down their cooling floods; Ah! this we know as 'neath protecting...

From a far planet in some alien sky, He, prophet of the stars, beholding now This small unhappy earth go speeding by, Might happily murmur:...

There is a tower standing bleak and high Beside the sea. Its turrets touch the sky. Beneath the sea its deep foundations lie. On...

I have heard the wild slow horns of morning blowing on a hill, I have heard the drums of dawn call up the slumbering light,...

He would not heed our call. Shrouded in night he went, Down to the deep-flowing Lethe With Lilith at his breast. With earth warm...

The shore is strangely still along the Bay, And silent is a city "cool and gray." From height of Russian Hill, the fairies see A...

The Winds of the Worlds Came from the place of light And breathed upon the Clay So that the Clay lived... a Star... Ra smiled....

"The Angel Israfael, whose heart strings are a lute, and who has the sweetest voice of all God's creatures" Spirit of fire and...

Song's ocean sands thy passing keels have strewn With lustrous gems, from islands far away, Which shake their splendid hues on wave and dune, And...

For George Sterling Think not that earth has stifled The beat and the breath Of music, and song has faded...

On many nights carousers were a tangle As wine flowed red at Coppa's Old Red Paint, And for the while bright sinner and gay saint...

Thanks to you, Bard, your song is such as he, The West Wind, might have poured in rhythmic surge. Peace to his ashes by the...

In memory of George Sterling, citizen of the Far West, poet of the seas and stars, prophet of Social Democracy Sarpedon, a native of...

George Sterling, valiant Son of Song, Thy singing shall survive thee long. No gentler poet ever trod Bohemia's pathway up to God. The...

Obit Nov.16, 1926 The silent waterfalls of the fog over the blue ridge of Tamalpais at evening,— The white foam of their falling,...

No word across the evening sky, Only the dark wind, grumbling still, And a last gull flying high And the stars...

Once, when no war had caused companion souls To sicken, parching for new happiness, A poet at Carmel, where the great sea rolls Its warning...

Oh still and silent sky, awake— To voice the song he found in thee! And thou-unceasing storm-tossed sea, Abide awhile, for memory's sake!...

I never found the happy chance to meet you; Now you're gone. I know you well; in a thousand lines I greet you, Lines you've...

Sea-worshipper, idolator of stars! What galaxy of suns enchants thee now? What cosmic oceans roll eternal surge To send ethereal zephyrs to thy brow? Thy...

In Death's republic lies the Raven Bard, And there in magic slumber on his tomb, Waits Poetry with folded wings. A guard...

(Variation on a Theme by George Sterling) Spring fields will soon be growing To fruitful green again. World-over, men are sowing The seed in...

(George Sterling—November 1926) For one who lies in slumber on an eve When every happy thing with life is warm For such should we...

(For George Sterling) It was a day of light over the vernal sea, Light and the fringe of foam on the soundless waves...

(In Memory of George Sterling) Sorrows have come before and have stood mute With blind implacable masks, the eyes cannot endure them, They...

You must have been hard pressed the other day. The wolves of life so close upon your heel- Tired...Oh tired in a hopeless way, Too...

(Suggested by a strange communication received from a total stranger, purporting to come from George Sterling a few days after the latter's death.) Break you the...

In youth he loved the sweep of all the winds That called and urged swift tumult in the skies, He dreamed of them from strange...

Why should he stay until no longer eager feet Spurt white sand over dune flowers as he runs? Why should...

Drunkard of life as any bee of sweets, Lover of the swift race, the good battle Of man against nature, Man against fate, Full-hearted lover...

I saw a man open an iris petal. He ran his finger underneath the edge, unfolded it, and smoothed it out a little, not as...

Below are the five poems Clark Ashton Smith wrote in trbute to his friend and mentor. To George Sterling And I too found...