So fleet the works of men, back to their earth again;
Ancient and holy things fade like a dream.
Nay! see the spring-blossoms steal forth a-maying,
Clothing with tender hues orchard and glen;
So, though old forms pass by, ne’er shall their spirit die,
Look! England’s bare boughs show green leaf again.
Eversley, 1848.
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Over the sea, past Crete, on the Syrian shore to the southward,
Skilful with needle and loom, and the arts of the dyer and carver,Skilful, but feeble of heart; for they know not the lords of Olympus,Lovers of men; neither broad-browed Zeus, nor Pallas Athene,Teacher of wisdom to heroes, bestower of might in the battle;Share not the cunning of Hermes, nor list to the songs of Apollo.Fearing…
My parents bow, and lead them forth,
Ah well! the people might not careTo cheer a dwarf like me.They little know how I could love,How I could plan and toil,To swell those drudges’ scanty gains,Their mites of rye and oil.They little know what dreams have beenMy playmates, night and day;Of equal kindness, helpful care,A mother’s perfect sway.Now earth to earth in convent…
Ask if I love thee? Oh, smiles cannot tell
Had I not loved thee, my sky had been clear:Had I not loved thee, I had not been here,Weeping by thee.Ask if I love thee? How else could I borrowPride from man’s slander, and strength from my sorrow?Laugh when they sneer at the fanatic’s bride,Knowing no bliss, save to toil and abideWeeping by thee.Andernach on…
1 Oh! that we two were Maying
3 Like children with violets playing4 In the shade of the whispering trees.5 Oh! that we two sat dreaming6 On the sward of some sheep-trimmed down,7 Watching the white mist steaming8 Over river and mead and town.9 Oh! that we two lay sleeping10 In our nest in the churchyard sod,11 With our limbs at rest…
Welcome, wild Northeaster!
Odes to every zephyr;Ne’er a verse to thee.Welcome, black Northeaster!O’er the German foam;O’er the Danish moorlands,From thy frozen home.Tired are we of summer,Tired of gaudy glare,Showers soft and steaming,Hot and breathless air.Tired of listless dreaming,Through the lazy day–Jovial wind of winterTurn us out to play!Sweep the golden reed-beds;Crisp the lazy dike;Hunger into madnessEvery plunging pike.Fill…
Clear and cool, clear and cool,
Cool and clear, cool and clear,By shining shingle and foaming weir;Under the crag where the ouzel sings,And the ivied wall where the church-bell rings,Undefiled, for the undefiled;Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child.Dank and foul, dank and foul,By the smoky town in its murky cowl;Foul and dank, foul and dank,By wharf and sewer…