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Quotes by Frederick Tennyson
Hark! the loud-voiced bells Stream on the world around With the full wind, as it swells, Seas of sound!— filed under Bells
Softly the loud peal dies, In passing winds it drowns, But breathes, like perfect joys, Tender tones,— filed under Bells
How sweet the harmonies of the afternoon! The Blackbird sings along the sunny breeze His ancient song of leaves, and summer boon; Rich breath of hayfields streams thro' whispering trees; And birds of morning trim their bustling wings, And listen fondly-while the Blackbird sings.— filed under Birds-Blackbird
First Evening. Conclusion. 'Tis not for golden eloquence I pray, A godlike tongue to move a stony heart- Methinks it were full well to be apart In solitary uplands far away, Betwixt the blossoms of a rosy spray, Dreaming upon the wonderful sweet face Of Nature, in a wild and pathless place.— filed under Solitude
Two aged men, that had been foes for life, Met by a grave, and wept and in those tears They washed away the memory of their strife; Then wept again the loss of all those years.— filed under Temperance
Through the gaunt woods the winds are shrilling cold, Down from the rifted rock the sunbeam pours Over the cold gray slopes, and stony moors. C.— filed under Wind
Remarkable Speeches of Some Obscure Men. Read my little fable: He that runs may read. Most can raise the flowers now, For all have got the seed.— filed under Ability
Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die.— filed under Action
O good gray head which all men knew.— filed under Affliction
Dialogue III. From yon blue heavens above us bent, The gardener Adam and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent.— filed under Ancestry
My people too were scared with eerie sounds, A footstep, a low throbbing in the walls, A noise of falling weights that never fell, Weird whispers, bells that rang without a hand, Door-handles turn'd when none was at the door, And bolted doors that open'd of themselves; And one betwixt the dark and light had seen Her, bending by the cradle of her babe.— filed under Apparitions
All people said she had authority.— filed under Authority
Authority forgets a dying king, Laid widow'd of the power in his eye That bow'd the will.— filed under Authority
But see that some one with authority Be near her still.— filed under Authority
Beat upon mine, little heart! beat, beat! Beat upon mine! you are mine, my sweet! All mine from your pretty blue eyes to your feet, My sweet!— filed under Babyhood
But what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light : And with no language but a cry.— filed under Ballads
A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair.— filed under Beauty
Ring in the valiant man and free, The larger heart, the kindlier hand; Ring out the darkness of the land; Ring in the Christ that is to be. C.— filed under Bells
Ring out old shapes of foul disease; Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; Ring out the thousand wars of old, Ring in the thousand years of peace.— filed under Bells
Ring out the old, ring in the new, Ring, happy bells, across the snow.— filed under Bells
Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, The flying cloud, the frosty light.— filed under Bells
Rooks. O Blackbird! sing me something well: While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground, Where thou may'st warble, eat and dwell.— filed under Birds-Blackbird
As the many-winter'd crow that leads the clanging rookery home.— filed under Birds-Cuckoo
And oft I heard the tender dove In firry woodlands making moan.— filed under Birds-Dove
He clasps the crag with hooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, Ring'd with the azure world, he stands. The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls: He watches from his mountain walls, And like a thunderbolt he falls.— filed under Birds-Falcon
Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens? If all the world were falcons, what of that? The wonder of the eagle were the less, But he not less the eagle.— filed under Birds-Falcon
The wild hawk stood with the down on his beak And stared with his foot on the prey.— filed under Birds-Humming-Bird
I do but sing because I must, And pipe but as the linnets sing.— filed under Birds-Lark
When cats run home and light is come, And dew is cold upon the ground, And the far-off stream is dumb, And the whirring sail goes round, And the whirring sail goes round; Alone and warming his five wits, The white owl in the belfry sits.— filed under Birds-Owl
Blackbird and the Rooks. The building rook'll caw from the windy tall elm-tree.— filed under Birds-Sea Bird
A melody loud and sweet That made the wild-swan pause in her cloud.— filed under Birds-Thrush
Trysting-Tree. When rosy plumelets tuft the larch, And rarely pipes the mounted thrush.— filed under Birds-Thrush
Two red fires in both their faces blazed; *** She thought he blush'd, And, blushing with him, wistly on him gazed. The Rape of Lucrece. Line 1,353. Yet will she blush, here be it said, To hear her secrets so bewrayed. The Passionate Pilgrim. Pt. XIX. L. 351. How pretty Her blushing was, and how she blush'd again.— filed under Blushes
Modern Learning. But every page having an ample marge, And every marge enclosing in the midst A square of text that looks a little blot.— filed under Books
The noonday quiet holds the hill.— filed under Calmness
I wandered by the brook-side, I wandered by the mill; I could not hear the brook flow, The noisy wheel was still. RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES (Lord Houghton)-The Brookside. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever.— filed under Candor
And grasps the skirts of happy chance, And breasts the blows of circumstance.— filed under Chance
Not in vain the distance beacons. Forward, forward let us range. Let the great world spin forever down the ringing grooves of change.— filed under Chaos
He makes no friend who never made a foe.— filed under Character
His honor rooted in dishonor stood, And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.— filed under Character
She with all the charm of woman, She with all the breadth of man.— filed under Character
Moral and Diverting. Oct., 1706. Then she rode forth, clothed on with chastity: The deep air listen'd round her as she rode, And all the low wind hardly breathed for fear.— filed under Chastity
And so the Word had breath, and wrought With human hands the creed of creeds In loveliness of perfect deeds, More strong than all poetic thought; Which he may read that binds the sheaf, Or builds the house, or digs the grave, And those wild eyes that watch the waves In roarings round the coral reef. S.— filed under Christ
The time draws near the birth of Christ: The moon is hid; the night is still; The Christmas bells from hill to hill Answer each other in the mist.— filed under Christmas
With trembling fingers did we weave The holly round the Christmas hearth; A rainy cloud possess'd the earth, And sadly fell our Christmas-eve.— filed under Christmas
I watch'd the little circles die; They past into the level flood.— filed under Circles
On the lecture slate The circle rounded under female hands With flawless demonstration.— filed under Circles
And grasps the skirts of happy chance, And breasts the blows of circumstance.— filed under Circumstance
So runs the round of life from hour to hour.— filed under Circumstance
Yonder cloud That rises upward always higher, And onward drags a laboring breast, And topples round the dreary west, A looming bastion fringed with fire.— filed under Clouds
Here and there a cotter's babe is royal-born by right divine; Here and there my lord is lower than his oxen or his swine.— filed under Comparisons
Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them, Volley'd and thunder'd.— filed under Vii
That not a moth with vain desire Is shrivel'd in a fruitless fire, Or but subserves another's gain. C.— filed under Compensation
Current among men, Like coin, the tinsel clink of compliment.— filed under Compliments
There is no land like England, Whate'er the light of day be; There are no hearts like English hearts, Such hearts of oak as they be; There is no land like England, Whate'er the light of day be: There are no men like Englishmen, So tall and bold as they be! And these will strike for England, And man and maid be free To foil and spoil the tyrant Beneath the greenwood tree.— filed under Countries-England
One God, one law, one element, And one far-off divine event, To which the whole creation moves.— filed under Alphonso The Wise
For since he would sit on a Prophet's seat, As a lord of the Human soul, We needs must scan him from head to feet, Were it but for a wart or a mole.— filed under Criticism
Too much wit makes the world rotten.— filed under Danger
"A day for Gods to stoop," *** ay, And men to soar.— filed under Death
Death has made His darkness beautiful with thee.— filed under Death
God's finger touched him, and he slept.— filed under Death
The night comes on that knows not morn, When I shall cease to be all alone, To live forgotten, and love forlorn.— filed under Death
Last stanza. Whatever crazy sorrow saith, No life that breathes with human breath Has ever truly long'd for death.— filed under Death
Fires that shook me once, but now to silent ashes fall'n away. Cold upon the dead volcano sleeps the gleam of dying day.— filed under Deceit
Late, late, so late! but we can enter still. Too late, too late! ye cannot enter now.— filed under Delight
But O! for the touch of a vanish'd hand, And the sound of a voice that is still!— filed under Desire
Gone-flitted away, Taken the stars from the night and the sun From the day! Gone, and a cloud in my heart.— filed under Desolation
And from his ashes may be made The violet of his native land.— filed under Devil, The
Mary F. I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear. Midsummer-Night's Dream. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 14. And every dew-drop paints a bow.— filed under Dew
I was born to other things.— filed under Discretion
To believe with certainty we must begin with doubting. STANISLAUS (King of Poland)-Maxims and Moral Sentences. No. 61. There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds.— filed under Doubt
Envoi. Like glimpses of forgotten dreams.— filed under Dreams
Seeing, I saw not, hearing not, I heard. Tho', if I saw not, yet they told me all So often that I spake as having seen.— filed under Dreams
The dream Dreamed by a happy man, when the dark East, Unseen, is brightening to his bridal morn.— filed under Drinking
Not once or twice in our rough island story, The path of duty was the way to glory.— filed under Easter
And a million horrible bellowing echoes broke From the red-ribb'd hollow behind the wood, And thunder'd up into Heaven.— filed under Economy
I heard *** *** the great echo flap And buffet round the hills from bluff to bluff.— filed under Economy
Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying,. dying.— filed under Economy
But a bevy of Eroses apple-cheeked In a shallop of crystal ivory-beaked.— filed under Bias
Here comes to-day Pallas and Aphrodite, claiming each This meed of fairest.— filed under Bias
The turf has drank a Widow's tear; Three of her husbands Slumber here. Epitaph at Staffordshire. Thou third great Canning, stand among our best And noblest, now thy long day's work hath ceased, Here silent in our minster of the West Who wert the voice of England in the East.— filed under Epitaph
Shall error in the round of time Still father Truth?— filed under Eternity
In time there is no present, In eternity no future, In eternity no past.— filed under Evening
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks: The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep Moans round with many voices.— filed under Evening
Biology. Indirect Equilibration. Evolution ever climbing after some ideal good And Reversion ever dragging Evolution in the mud.— filed under Evolution
Is there evil but on earth? Or pain in every peopled sphere? Well, be grateful for the sounding watchword "Evolution" here.— filed under Evolution
Let the great world spin forever down the ringing grooves of change.— filed under Evolution
The Lord let the house of a brute to the soul of a man, And the man said, "Am I your debtor?" And the Lord-"Not yet: but make it as clean as you can, And then I will let you a better."— filed under Evolution
Her eyes are homes of silent prayer.— filed under Eyes
But light as any wind that blows So fleetly did she stir, The flower, she touch'd on, dipt and rose, And turned to look at her.— filed under Fairies
Faith and unfaith can ne'er be equal powers; Unfaith in aught is want of faith in all.— filed under Faith
There lives more faith in honest doubt, Believe me, than in half the creeds.— filed under Faith
Whose faith has centre everywhere, Nor cares to fix itself to form.— filed under Faith
That a lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies; That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright- But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight. bb.— filed under Falsehood
Staled by frequence, shrunk by usage into commonest commonplace!— filed under Familiarity
Fancy light from Fancy caught.— filed under Fancy
And out of darkness came the hands That reach thro' nature, moulding men.— filed under Faults
Fear Stared in her eyes, and chalk'd her face.— filed under Fear
We keep the day. With festal cheer, With books and music, surely we Will drink to him, whate'er he be, And sing the songs he loved to hear. S.— filed under Festivities
To be true to each other, let 'appen what maäy Till the end o' the daäy An the last loäd hoäm.— filed under Fire
Banner of England, not for a season, O banner of Britain, hast thou Floated in conquering battle or flapt to the battle-cry! Never with mightier glory than when we had rear'd thee on high, Flying at top of the roofs in the ghastly siege of Lucknow- Shot thro' the staff or the halyard, but ever we raised thee anew, And ever upon the topmost roof our banner of England blew.— filed under Flags
With roses musky-breathed, And drooping daffodilly, And silver-leaved lily. And ivy darkly-wreathed, I wove a crown before her, For her I love so dearly.— filed under Flirting
Amaryllis. Amaryllis. Where, here and there, on sandy beaches A milky-bell'd amaryllis blew.— filed under Flirting
And by the meadow-trenches blow the faint sweet cuckoo-flowers.— filed under Flowers-Cowslip
And ye talk together still, In the language wherewith Spring Letters cowslips on the hill.— filed under Flowers-Cowslip
When the face of night is fair in the dewy downs And the shining daffodil dies.— filed under Flowers-Daffodil
The sweet forget-me-nots, That grow for happy lovers.— filed under Flowers-Forget-Me-Not
And honeysuckle loved to crawl Up the low crag and ruin'd wall. ScoTT-Marmion. Canto III. Introduction. And bid her steal into the pleached bower, Where honeysuckles, ripen'd by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter, like favorites, Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it. Much Ado About Nothing. Act III. Sc. 1. L. 7. The honeysuckle round the porch has woven its wavy bowers.— filed under Flowers-Honeysuckle
The gold-eyed kingcups fine, The frail bluebell peereth over Rare broidery of the purple clover.— filed under Flowers-Kingcup
The Lotos blooms below the barren peak: The Lotos blooms by every winding creek: All day the wind breathes low with mellower tone: Thro' every hollow cave and alley lone, Round and round the spicy downs the yellow Lotos-dust is blown.— filed under Flowers-Lotus
And is there any moral shut Within the bosom of the rose?— filed under Flowers-Rose
Unloved, the sunflower, shining fair, Ray round with flames her disk of seed, And many a rose-carnation feed With summer spice the humming air.— filed under Flowers-Thorn
And from his ashes may be made The violet of his native land.— filed under Flowers-Violet
And in my breast Spring wakens too; and my regret Becomes an April violet, And buds and blossoms like the rest.— filed under Flowers-Violet
The smell of violets, hidden in the green, Pour'd back into my empty soul and frame The times when I remembered to have been Joyful and free from blame.— filed under Flowers-Violet
Now folds the lily all her sweetness up, And slips into the bosom of the lake; So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip Into my bosom, and be lost in me.— filed under Flowers-Violet
The water-lily starts and slides Upon the level in little puffs of wind, Tho' anchor'd to the bottom.— filed under Flowers-Woodbine
Hill. And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad, And the musk of the rose is blown.— filed under Flowers-Woodbine
And feet like sunny gems on an English green.— filed under Foot
The grass stoops not, she treads on it so light. Venus and Adonis. L. 1,028. Steps with a tender foot, light as on air, The lovely, lordly creature floated on.— filed under Footsteps
Temptation of Hassan Ben Khaled. St. 11. L. 31. The sin That neither God nor man can well forgive.— filed under Fortune
Nature, Measures, and Offices of Friendship. Then came your new friend: you began to change- I saw it and grieved. C.— filed under Friends
Nature, Measures, and Offices of Friendship. For tho' the faults were thick as dust In vacant chambers, I could trust Your kindness.— filed under Fruits
O friendship, equal-poised control, O heart, with kindliest motion warm, O sacred essence, other form, O solemn ghost, O crowned soul!— filed under Fruits
For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar.— filed under Gain
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles, And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.— filed under Gain
The great world's altar-stairs That slope thro' darkness up to God.— filed under Gain
A little garden square and wall'd; And in it throve an ancient evergreen, A yew-tree, and all round it ran a walk Of shingle, and a walk divided it.— filed under Garden
The garden lies, A league of grass, wash'd by a slow broad stream.— filed under Garden
The splash and stir Of fountains spouted up and showering down In meshes of the jasmine and the rose: And all about us peal'd the nightingale, Rapt in her song, and careless of the snare.— filed under Garden
And thus he bore without abuse The grand old name of gentleman, Defamed by every charlatan And soiled with all ignoble use.— filed under Gifts
Or else flushed Ganymede, his rosy thigh Half buried in the Eagle's down, Sole as a flying star, shot thro' the sky, Above the pillared town.— filed under Gold
Or sweet Europa's mantle blew unclasped From off her shoulder backward borne; From one hand drooped a crocus: one hand grasped The mild bull's golden horn.— filed under Gold
0, then, what graces in my love do dwell, That he hath turn'd a heaven unto a hell! १. Midsummer-Night's Dream. Act I. Sc. 1. L. 206. But the tender grace of a day that is dead Will never come back to me.— filed under Gratitude
Kings have no such couch as thine, As the green that folds thy grave.— filed under Gratitude
Our father's dust is left alone And silent under other snows.— filed under Gratitude
C. Captive. Never morning wore To evening, but some heart did break.— filed under Grief
His honor rooted in dishonor stood, And faith unfaithful kept him falsely true.— filed under Honor
Behold, we know not anything; I can but trust that good shall fall At last-far off-at last, to all, And every winter change to spring.— filed under Hope
The mighty hopes that make us men. C.— filed under Hope
Converted to the Church of England. 1657. *** Where blind and naked Ignorance Delivers brawling judgments, unashamed, On all things all day long.— filed under Imagination
Its Heavenly Doctrine. Par. 223. Ah, Christ, that it were possible, For one short hour to see The souls we loved, that they might tell us What and where they be.— filed under Immortality
*** but while I breathe Heaven's air, and Heaven looks down on me, And smiles at my best meanings, I remain Mistress of mine own self and mine own soul.— filed under Independence
I am a part of all that I have met.— filed under Influence
Dialogue II. And our spirits rushed together at the touching of the lips.— filed under Kisses
Once he drew With one long kiss my whole soul thro' My lips, as sunlight drinketh dew.— filed under Kisses
Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers.— filed under Labor
Who loves not Knowledge? Who shall rail Against her beauty? May she mix With men and prosper! Who shall fix Her pillars? Let her work prevail.— filed under Labor
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink Life to the lees.— filed under Life
Life is not as idle ore, But iron dug from central gloom, And heated hot with burning fears, And dipt in baths of hissing tears, And batter'd with the shocks of doom, To shape and use.— filed under Life
The white flower of a blameless life.— filed under Life
Where God and Nature met in light.— filed under Light
But over all things brooding slept The quiet sense of something lost.— filed under Love
That loss is common would not make My own less bitter, rather more: Too common! Never morning wore To evening, but some heart did break.— filed under Love
And on her lover's arm she leant, And round her waist she felt it fold, And far across the hills they went In that new world which is the old.— filed under Love
Departure. I. For love reflects the thing beloved.— filed under Love
I loved you, and my love had no return, And therefore my true love has been my death.— filed under Love
Love is hurt with jar and fret; Love is made a vague regret.— filed under Love
Love lieth deep; Lovedwells not in lip-depths.— filed under Love
Where love could walk with banish'd Hope no more.— filed under Love
Love's arms were wreathed about the neck of Hope, And Hope kiss'd Love, and Love drew in her breath In that close kiss and drank her whisper'd tales. They say that Love would die when Hope was gone. And Love mourn'd long, and sorrow'd after Hope; At last she sought out Memory, and they trod The same old paths where Love had walked with Hope, And Memory fed the soul of Love with tears.— filed under Love
Love's too precious to be lost, A little grain shall not be spilt.— filed under Love
Shall it not be scorn to me to harp on such a moulder'd string? I am shamed through all my nature to have lov'd so slight a thing.— filed under Love
She is coming, my own, my sweet; Were it ever so airy a tread, My heart would hear her and beat, Were it earth in an earthy bed; My dust would hear her and beat, Had I lain for a century dead; Would start and tremble under her feet, And blossom in purple and red.— filed under Love
There has fallen a splendid tear From the passion-flower at the gate. She is coming, my dove, my dear; She is coming, my life, my fate; The red rose cries, "She is near, she is near; " And the white rose weeps, "She is late;" The larkspur listens, "I hear; I hear;" And the lily whispers, "I wait."— filed under Love
'Tis better to have loved and lost, Than never to have loved at all.— filed under Love
And wheresoe'er thou move, good luck Shall fling her old shoe after.— filed under Luxury
But what am I? An infant crying in the night: An infant crying for the light, And with no language but a cry.— filed under Man
I am a part of all that I have met.— filed under Man
Man is man, and master of his fate.— filed under Man
Her Wheel. That men may rise on stepping-stones Of their dead selves to higher things.— filed under Man
Her manners had not that repose Which stamps the caste of Vere de Vere.— filed under Martyrdom
Chamber Window. As the husband is the wife is; thou art mated with a clown, And the grossness of his nature will have weight to drag thee down.— filed under Matrimony
Marriages are made in Heaven.— filed under Matrimony
A land of promise, a land of memory, A land of promise flowing with the milk And honey of delicious memories!— filed under Memory
Slow sail'd the weary mariners and saw, Betwixt the green brink and the running foam, Sweet faces, rounded arms, and bosoms prest To little harps of gold; and while they mused Whispering to each other half in fear, Shrill music reach'd them on the middle sea.— filed under Merriment
Who would be A mermaid fair, Singing alone, Combing her hair Under the sea, In a golden curl With a comb of pearl, On a throne? I would be a mermaid fair; I would sing to myself the whole of the day; With a comb of pearl I would comb my hair; And still as I comb I would sing and say, "Who is it loves me? who loves not me?"— filed under Merriment
But the jingling of the guinea helps the hurt that Honor feels.— filed under Months-February
All in the wild March-morning I heard the angels call; It was when the moon was setting, and the dark was over all; The trees began to whisper, and the wind began to roll, And in the wild March-morning I heard them call my soul.— filed under Months-April
For I'm to be Queen o' the May, mother, I'm to be Queen o' the May.— filed under Months-June
Pine. Morn in the white wake of the morning star Came furrowing all the orient into gold.— filed under Morning
Rise, happy morn, rise, holy morn, Draw forth the cheerful day from night; O Father, touch the east, and light The light that shone when Hope was born.— filed under Morning
Happy he With such a mother! faith in womankind Beats with his blood, and trust in all things high Comes easy to him, and though he trip and fall, He shall not blind his soul with clay.— filed under Motherhood
The bearing and the training of a child Is woman's wisdom.— filed under Motherhood
It is the little rift within the lute That by and by will make the music mute, And ever widening slowly silence all.— filed under Music
Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies.— filed under Music
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes.— filed under Name
Here are cool mosses deep, And thro' the moss the ivies creep, And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep.— filed under Nature
Myriads of rivulets hurrying through the lawn, The moan of doves in immemorial elms, And murmuring of innumerable bees.— filed under Nature
Nothing in Nature is unbeautiful.— filed under Nature
Better not to be at all Than not be noble.— filed under Oaths
From yon blue heavens above us bent The gardener Adam and his wife Smile at the claims of long descent.— filed under Oaths
Howe'er it be, it seems to me, 'Tis only noble to be good. Kind hearts are more than coronets, And simple faith than Norman blood.— filed under Oaths
One so small Who knowing nothing knows but to obey.— filed under Obedience
What Tongue can Her Perfection Tell? Jewels five-words-long, That on the stretch'd forefinger of all Time Sparkle for ever.— filed under Occupations-Jeweler
For this is England's greatest son, He that gain'd a hundred fights, And never lost an English gun.— filed under Occupations-Navigation
And the stately ships go on To their haven under the hill. C.— filed under Occupations-Navigation
Thou bringest the sailor to his wife, And travell'd men from foreign lands, And letters unto trembling hands; And, thy dark freight, a vanish'd life.— filed under Occupations-Navigation
Go, little letter, apace, apace, Fly; Fly to the light in the valley below- Tell my wish to her dewy blue eye.— filed under Occupations-Post
I read Of that glad year that once had been, In those fall'n leaves which kept their green, The noble letters of the dead : And strangely on the silence broke The silent-speaking words.— filed under Occupations-Post
Thou bringest *** *** letters unto trembling hands.— filed under Occupations-Post
With a little hoard of maxims preaching down a daughter's heart.— filed under Occupations-Preaching
And lives to clutch the golden keys, To mould a mighty state's decrees, And shape the whisper of the throne.— filed under Occupations-Shoemaking
And statesmen at her council met Who knew the seasons when to take Occasion by the hand, and make The bounds of freedom wider yet.— filed under Occupations-Shoemaking
Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell When I embark.— filed under Parting
He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force, Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.— filed under Passion
The eternal landscape of the past.— filed under Patience
O saviour of the silver-coasted isle.— filed under Patriotism
No more shall *** Peace Pipe on her pastoral hillock a languid note, And watch her harvest ripen.— filed under Peace
I built my soul a lordly pleasure-house, Wherein at ease for aye to dwell.— filed under Pleasure
The poet in a golden clime was born, With golden stars above; scorn, The love of love.— filed under Poets
Battering the gates of heaven with storms of prayer.— filed under Prayer
More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call them friend?— filed under Prayer
(Quoted.) Better fifty years of Europe than a cycle of Cathay.— filed under Proverbs
crest. 2. L. Midsummer-Night's Dream. Act 208. Sc. 2. L. 208. Ep. They're as like each other as are peas. Swift-Horace. Bk. I. Ep. V. V. L. 138. Their meetings made December June. Their every parting was to die.— filed under Iii
O we fell out, I know not why, And kiss'd again with tears.— filed under Quotation
Rainbow. Rain, rain, and sun! a rainbow in the sky!— filed under Reading
It seem'd so hard at first, mother, to leave the blessed sun, And now it seems as hard to stay-and yet His will be done! But still I think it can't be long before I find release; And that good man, the clergyman, has told me words of peace.— filed under Resignation
Now is done thy long day's work; Fold thy palms across thy breast, Fold thine arms, turn to thy rest. Let them rave. S.— filed under Results
I chatter, chatter as I flow To join the brimming river, For men may come and men may go, But I go on forever. P.— filed under Rights
Broad-based upon her people's will, And compassed by the inviolate sea.— filed under Ruin
In that fierce light which beats upon a throne.— filed under Ruin
The sabbaths of Eternity, One sabbath deep and wide.— filed under Sabbath
Ah! well away! Seasons flower and fade.— filed under Sculpture
Winter. Dip down upon the northern shore, O sweet new year, delaying long; Thou doest expectant nature wrong, Delaying long; delay no more.— filed under Sows
In the Spring a livelier iris changes on the burnish'd dove; In the Spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.— filed under Sows
Once more the Heavenly Power Makes all things new, And domes the red-plough'd hills With loving blue; The blackbirds have their wills, The throstles too.— filed under Sows
The bee buzz'd up in the heat, "I am faint for your honey, my sweet." The flower said, "Take it, my dear, For now is the Spring of the year. So come, come!" "Hum!" And the bee buzz'd down from the heat.— filed under Sows
SEASONS (THE)-SUMMER. 541 The boyhood of the year.— filed under Sows
What need we any spur but our own cause, To prick us to redress? Julius Cæsar. Act II. Sc. 1. L. 123. Love took up the harp of Life, and smote on all the chords with might; Smote the chord of Self, that, trembling, pass'd in music out of sight.— filed under Selfishness
Sighs Which perfect Joy, perplexed for utterance, Stole from her sister Sorrow.— filed under Sighs
Silence, beautiful voice.— filed under Silence
were Twinkling. I do but sing because I must, And pipe but as the linnets sing.— filed under Singers
Prelude to Tristram and Iseult. L. 205. She sleeps: her breathings are not heard In palace chambers far apart, The fragrant tresses are not stirr'd That lie upon her charmed heart. She sleeps: on either hand upswells The gold fringed pillow lightly prest: She sleeps, nor dreams, but ever dwells A perfect form in perfect rest.— filed under Sleep
The mystery Of folded sleep.— filed under Sleep
When in the down I sink my head, Sleep, Death's twin-brother, times my breath.— filed under Sleep
Third Evening. Short swallow-flights of song, that dip Their wings in tears, and skim away.— filed under Sorrow
O sorrow, wilt thou rule my blood, But sometimes lovely, like a bride, And put thy harsher moods aside, If thou wilt have me wise and good.— filed under Sorrow
Smit with exceeding sorrow unto Death.— filed under Sorrow
That a sorrow's crown of sorrow is remember ing happier things.— filed under Sorrow
Last lines. Many a night I saw the Pleiads, rising thro' the mellow shade, Glitter like a swarm of fire-flies tangled in a silver braid.— filed under Stars
Poesy. In after-dinner talk, Across the walnuts and the wine.— filed under Story-Telling
There sinks the nebulous star we call the Sun.— filed under Sunrise
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean, Tears from the depths of some divine despair.— filed under Temperance
Why wilt thou ever scare me with thy tears, And make me tremble lest a saying learnt, In days far-off, on that dark earth, be true? The gods themselves cannot recall their gifts.— filed under Temperance
T. Well, well, be it so, thou strongest thief of all, For thou hast stolen my will, and made it thine. S.— filed under Thought
On Morals and Manners. Prejudice. Essay I. St. 45. And Thought leapt out to wed with Thought, Ere Thought could wed itself with Speech.— filed under Thought
Large elements in order brought, And tracts of calm from tempest made, And world-wide fluctuation sway'd, In vassal tides that follow'd thought.— filed under Thought
St. 4. Yet I doubt not thro' the ages one increasing purpose runs, And the thoughts of men are widened with the process of the suns. C.— filed under Cxii
Come, Time, and teach me many years, I do not suffer in dream; For now so strange do these things seem, Mine eyes have leisure for their tears.— filed under Time
First pledge our Queen this solemn night, every guest; Then drink to England, every guest; That man's the best Cosmopolite All Round Who loves his native country best. .— filed under To-Day
To-morrow yet would reap to-day, As we bear blossoms of the dead; Earn well the thrifty months, nor wed Raw Haste, half-sister to Delay.— filed under To-Morrow
Now rings the woodland loud and long, The distance takes a lovelier hue, And drowned in yonder living blue The lark becomes a sightless song.— filed under Treason
O Love, what hours were thine and mine, In lands of palm and southern pine; In lands of palm, of orange-blossom, Of olive, aloe, and maize, and vine.— filed under Treason
The linden broke her ranks and rent The woodbine wreaths that bind her, And down the middle buzz! che went With all her bees behind her! The poplars, in long order due, With cypress promenaded, The shock-head willows two and two By rivers gallopaded.— filed under Treason
The woods are hush'd, their music is no more; The leaf is dead, the yearning past away; New leaf, new life-the days of frost are o'er; New life, new love, to suit the newer day: New loves are sweet as those that went before: Free love-free field-we love but while we may.— filed under Treason
Harem. Song. The slender acacia would not shake One long milk-bloom on the tree; The white lake-blossom fell into the lake As the pimpernel dozed on the lea; But the rose was awake all night for your sake, Knowing your promise to me; The lilies and roses were all awake, They sighed for the dawn and thee.— filed under Trees And Plants-Acacia
In crystal vapour everywhere Blue isles of heaven laughed between, And far, in forest-deeps unseen, The topmost elm-tree gather'd green From draughts of balmy air.— filed under Trees And Plants-Chestnut
Hail, hidden to the knees in fern, Broad Oak of Sumner-chace, Whose topmost branches can discern The roofs of Sumner-place!— filed under Trees And Plants-Oak
A trifle makes a dream, a trifle breaks.— filed under Trifles
Weakness to be wroth with weakness! woman's pleasure, woman's pain- Nature made them blinder motions bounded in a shallower brain.— filed under Weakness
A love still burning upward, giving light To read those laws, an accent very low In blandishment, but a most silver flow Of subtle-paced counsel in distress, Right to the heart and brain, tho' undescried, Winning its way with extreme gentleness Thro' all the outworks of suspicious pride; A courage to endure and to obey : A hate of gossip parlance and of sway, Crown'd Isabel, thro' all her placid life, The queen of marriage, a most perfect wife.— filed under Wife
All Life needs for life is possible to will.— filed under Wind
Our wills are ours, we know not how; Our wills are ours, to make them thine.— filed under Wind
S. Nor is he the wisest man who never proved himself a fool.— filed under Wisdom
'Tis held that sorrow makes us wise.— filed under Wisdom
Airy, fairy Lilian.— filed under Woman
A rosebud set with little wilful thorns, And sweet as English air could make her, she.— filed under Woman
For woman is not undeveloped man But diverse; could we make her as the man Sweet love were slain; his dearest bond is this Not like to like but like in difference.— filed under Woman
Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls. S.— filed under Woman
With prudes for proctors, dowagers for deans, And sweet girl-graduates in their golden hair.— filed under Woman
Woman is the lesser man. U.— filed under Woman
Quiet, Robin, quiet! You lovers are such clumsy summer-flies, Forever buzzing at your lady's face.— filed under Wooing
Dialogue III. So many worlds, so much to do, So little done, such things to be.— filed under Work
What is that to him that reaps not harvest of his youthful joys, Though the deep heart of existence beat forever like a boy's?— filed under Zeal