Barry Cornwall

The radiance of the morning skiesWas most displeasing to my eyes.For loving looks, caressing words,I cared no more than sun or birds;But I could bite my mother’s breast,And that made up for all the rest.

Here’s a health to thee, Mary,Here’s a health to thee;The drinkers are gone,And I am alone,To think of home and thee, Mary.There are some who may shine o’er thee, Mary,And many as frank and free,And a few as fair,But the summer airIs not more sweet to me, Mary.I have thought of thy last low sigh,…

Gently,—as we sometimes glideThrough a quiet dream.Humble voyagers are We,Husband, wife, and children three—(One is lost,—an angel, fledTo the azure overhead.)Touch us gently, Time!We ’ve not proud nor soaring wings:Our ambition, our content,Lies in simple things.Humble voyagers are We,O’er Life’s dim, unsounded sea,Seeking only some calm clime;—Touch us gently, gentle Time!

‘Tis ne’er to be erased!‘Tis ne’er to be forgot!The brand is on thy brow!Yet I must shade the spot:For who will love thee now,If I love thee not?Thy soul is dark, — is stained; —From out the bright world thrown;By God and man disdained,But not by me, — thy own!Oh! even the tiger slainHath one…

Come,—tell the sweet amountThat ’s lost by sighing!How many smiles?—a score?Then laugh, and count no more;For day is dying.Lie down, sad soul, and sleep,And no more measureThe flight of Time, nor weepThe loss of leisure;But here, by this lone stream,Lie down with us, and dreamOf starry treasure.We dream: do thou the same:We love—for ever;We laugh;…

And he lifted his hand so yellow,And poured out his coal-black wine.Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!There came to him many a Maiden,Whose eyes had forgot to shine;And Widows, with grief o’erladen,For a draught of his sleepy wine.Hurrah! for the coal-black Wine!The Scholar left all his learning;The Poet his fancied woes;And the Beauty her bloom returning,Like…

Without a mark, without a bound,It runneth the earth’s wide regions round;It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies;Or like a cradled creature lies.I ’m on the sea! I ’m on the sea!I am where I would ever be;With the blue above, and the blue below,And silence wheresoe’er I go;If a storm should come…

Is now beneath thy lattice playing:Why art thou delaying?He hath riden many a mileBut to see thy smile:The young light on the flowers is shining,Yet he is repining.What to him is a summer star,If his love’s afar?What to him the flowers perfuming,When his heart’s consuming?Sweetest girl! I why dost thou hide?Beauty may abideEven before the…

Neither sad nor very long:It is for a little maid,Golden-tressed Adelaide!Therefore let it suit a merry, merry ear,Mother dear!Let it be a merry strain,Mother dear!Shunning e’en the thought of pain:For our gentle child will weep,If the theme be dark and deep;And we will not draw a single, single tear,Mother dear!Childhood should be all divine,Mother dear!And…

Is it from the starlight caught?Is it by the tempest taught,Or by whispering morn?Was it cradled in the brain?Chain’d awhile, or nurs’d in night?Was it wrought with toil and pain?Did it bloom and fade again,Ere it burst to light?No more question of its birth:Rather love its better part!’T is a thing of sky and earth,Gathering…