Works

I.

The acorn-oak
Sullens to sombre crimson all its leaves;
And where it hugely heaves
A giant head dark as congested blood,
The gum-tree towers, against the sky a stroke...

Where the bud has never blown
Who for scent is debtor?
Where the spirit rests unknown
Fatal is the letter.

In thee, Jesus, Godhead-stored,
All things we inherit,
For thou art the very Word...

Three words will I name thee around and about,
From the lip to the lip, full of meaning, they flee;
But they had not their birth in the being without,
And the heart, not the lip, must their oracle be!...

Three errors there are, that forever are found
On the lips of the good, on the lips of the best;
But empty their meaning and hollow their sound
And slight is the comfort they bring to the breast....

[1]

A house was built by Socrates
That failed the public taste to please.
Some blamed the inside; some, the out; and all
Agreed that the apartments were too small....

Few and precious are the words which the lips of Wisdom utter:
To what shall then' rarity be likened? What price shall count their worth?
Perfect and much to be desired, and giving joy with riches....

"A red rose for my helmet,
And a word before we part!
The rose shall be my oriflamme
The word shall fill my heart."
Heart, Heart, Heart of my heart--
Just a look, just a word and a look!...

"See, here's the workbox, little wife,
That I made of polished oak."
He was a joiner, of village life;
She came of borough folk.

He holds the present up to her
As with a smile she nears...

On summer nights when moonbeams flow
And glisten o'er the high, white tips,
And winds make lamentation low,
As through the ribs of shattered ships,
And steal about the broken brace...

In what I do I note the marring flaw,
The imperfections of the work I see;
Nor am I one who rather DO than BE,
Since its reversal is Creation's law.

Nay, since there lies a better and a worse,...

There's a murmur in the air,
And noise in every street -
The murmur of many tongues,
The noise of numerous feet -
While round the Workhouse door
The Laboring Classes flock,...

God bless the brawny arms of toil,
The noble hearts and royal hands,
That plow the plain and seed the soil,
And grow the grains of laughing lands!
King in the blessed vales of life...

Rising early in the morning,
We proceed to light our fire;
Then our Majesty adorning
In its work-a-day attire,
We embark without delay
On the duties of the day.
...

WORKMAN. Why do you come crawling up to us? What do ye want? You're none of us.... Get along!

MAN WITH WHITE HANDS. I am one of you, comrades!
...

Man's works grow stale to man: the years destroy
The charm they once possessed; the city tires;
The terraces, the domes, the dazzling spires
Are in the main but an attractive toy -...

I wish this world and its green hills were mine,
But it is not; the wandering shepherd star
Is not more distant, gazing from afar
On the unreap'd pastures of the sea,...

(Dedicated to a clown)

Many days tread upon human animals,
In gentle oceans hunger-sharks fly.
Heads, beers glisten in coffee-houses.
Girls' screams shred on a man....

Why, when the World's great mind
Hath finally inclin'd,
Why, you say, Critias, be debating still?
Why, with these mournful rhymes
Learn'd in more languid climes,
Blame our activity,...

The world below the brine;
Forests at the bottom of the sea the branches and leaves,
Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds the thick tangle, the openings, and the pink turf,...

At times I am the mother of the world;
And mine seem all its sorrows, and its fears.
That rose, which in each mother-heart is curled,
The rose of pity, opens with my tears,...