Works

TO CHRISTINA G. ROSSETTI


Songs light as these may sound, though deep and strong
The heart spake through them, scarce should hope to please
Ears tuned to strains of loftier thoughts than throng...

Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled,
Farther than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled,
Live such as fought and- sailed and ruled and loved and made our world.
...

With Hale Affection And Abiding Faith These Rhymes And Pictures Are Inscribed To The Children Everywhere




He owns the bird-songs of the hills -
The laughter of the April rills;...

TO MY BEST FRIEND

THEODORE WATTS

I DEDICATE IN THIS BOOK

THE BEST I HAVE TO GIVE HIM

Spring speaks again, and all our woods are stirred,...

I.

Steadfast as any soldier of the line
He served his England, with the imminent death
Poised at his heart. Nor could the world divine
The constant peril of each burdened breath.
...

And so, to you, who always were
Perseus, D'Artagnan, Lancelot
To me, I give these weedy rhymes
In memory of earlier times.
Now all those careless days are not.
Of all my heroes, you endure.
...

On The Presentation Of An American Banner To Camp Rochambeau By The Marquise De Rochambeau At Tours, France, June 1, 1918

Here is a picture I carry away
On memory's wall. A green June day,...

Desire we past illusions to recall?
To reinstate wild Fancy, would we hide
Truths whose thick veil Science has drawn aside?
No, let this Age, high as she may, install...

My sun has set, I dwell
In darkness as a dead man out of sight;
And none remains, not one, that I should tell
To him mine evil plight
This bitter night.
I will make fast my door...

I.

Rock-sentineled, romantic stream!
Thy waters flow with silvery gleam
Where glassy pools and visions greet
Embosomed in some cool retreat;
Then rippling o'er a pebbly bed,...

("Souvent quand mon esprit riche.")

[VII., May 18, 1828.]


When my mind, on the ocean of poesy hurled,
Floats on in repose round this wonderful world,
Oft the sacred fire from heaven -...

When you were there, and you, and you,
Happiness crowned the night; I too,
Laughing and looking, one of all,
I watched the quivering lamplight fall
On plate and flowers and pouring tea...

Of all the joys on earth that be
There is no sweeter one to me
Than sitting with a merry lass
From consomm' to demi-tasse.

And yet a golden hour I'd steal,
Reverse the order of the meal,...

Soup should be heralded with a mellow horn,
Blowing clear notes of gold against the stars;
Strange entrees with a jangle of glass bars
Fantastically alive with subtle scorn;...

He that loves a rosy cheek,
Or a coral lip admires,
Or from star-like eyes doth seek
Fuel to maintain his fires;
As old Time makes these decay,
So his flames must waste away.
...

"vox clamantis in deserto."



Said Malthus one day to a clown
Lying stretched on the beach in the sun,--
"What's the number of souls in this town?"--...

By the side of a moss
Lived young Donald Ross,
Among the heathery hills
And the mountain rills,
In a snug little cot
Content with his lot
He never knew sorrow
With his wife and wee Flora....

He who locks a gate doth close
Pity's heart against his woes;
But who opens one shall find
God is standing just behind.

I saw the moon so broad and bright
Sailing high on a frosty night:

And the air swung far and far between
The silver disc and the orb of green:

While here and there a wisp of white...

"I would not have," he said,
"Tears, nor the black pall, nor the wormy grave,
Grief's hideous panoply I would not have
Round me when I am dead.


"Music and flowers and light,...