Poetry Books

ANALYSIS OF THE FIRST PART. THE Poem begins with the description of an obscure village, and of the pleasing melancholy which it excites on being revisited after a long absence. This mixed sensation is an effect of the Memory. From an effect we naturally ascend to the cause; and the subject proposed is then unfolded with an investigation of the nature and leading principles of this faculty. It is... more...

MY "PROMENADE SOLITAIRE" Up and down in my garden fair,Under the trellis where grapes will bloom,With the breath of violets in the air,As pallid Winter for Spring makes room,I walk and ponder, free from care,In my beautiful Promenade Solitaire. Back and forth in the checkered shadeTraced by the lattice that holds the vine,With the glory of snow-capped crests displayedOn the sapphire sky in a... more...

    Morning and eveningMaids heard the goblins cry:"Come buy our orchard fruits,Come buy, come buy:Apples and quinces,Lemons and oranges,Plump unpecked cherries,Melons and raspberries,Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,Swart-headed mulberries,Wild free-born cranberries,Crab-apples, dewberries,Pine-apples, blackberries,Apricots, strawberries;--All ripe togetherIn summer weather,--Morns that pass by,Fair... more...

The Cross of Pearls. ethsemane, how oft, grown dim,With bleeding hearts, unpardoned sin,A Cross with pearls, and gems inlaid,God's gift of love, the price prepaid. These precious pearls were once a tear,Repentant sighs, a hope, a fear,But rough seas washed and jewels grewUntil the Cross was pearly hue. Unnumbered are the pearls and fair,If burdens of the weary share;And deeply wrought with threads... more...

PREFACE. The idea of translating Catullus in the original metres adopted by the poet himself was suggested to me many years ago by the admirable, though, in England, insufficiently known, version of Theodor Heyse (Berlin, 1855). My first attempts were modelled upon him, and were so unsuccessful that I dropt the idea for some time altogether. In 1868, the year following the publication of my larger... more...

MARCH: AN ODE 1887 IEre frost-flower and snow-blossom faded and fell, and the splendour of winter had passed out of sight,The ways of the woodlands were fairer and stranger than dreams that fulfil us in sleep with delight;The breath of the mouths of the winds had hardened on tree-tops and branches that glittered and swayedSuch wonders and glories of blossomlike snow or of frost that outlightens all... more...

DIVIDED. I. An empty sky, a world of heather,  Purple of foxglove, yellow of broom;We two among them wading together,  Shaking out honey, treading perfume. Crowds of bees are giddy with clover,  Crowds of grasshoppers skip at our feet,Crowds of larks at their matins hang over,  Thanking the Lord for a life so sweet. Flusheth the rise with her purple favor,  Gloweth the cleft with her golden... more...

FROM THE UPLAND TO THE SEAShall we wake one morn of spring,Glad at heart of everything,Yet pensive with the thought of eve?Then the white house shall we leave.Pass the wind-flowers and the bays,Through the garth, and go our ways,Wandering down among the meadsTill our very joyance needsRest at last; till we shall comeTo that Sun-god's lonely home,Lonely on the hillside grey,Whence the sheep have... more...

ROSAMUND. His blew His winds, and they were scattered. 'One soweth and another reapeth.'                                     Ay,Too true, too true. One soweth—unawareCometh a reaper stealthily while he dreams—Bindeth the golden sheaf, and in his bosomAs 't were between the dewfall and the dawnBears it away. Who other was to blame?Is it I? Is it... more...

A WINTER DAY. The cock, warm roosting 'midst his feather'd dames,Now lifts his beak and snuffs the morning air,Stretches his neck and claps his heavy wings,Gives three hoarse crows, and glad his talk is done;Low, chuckling, turns himself upon the roost,Then nestles down again amongst his mates.The lab'ring hind, who on his bed of straw,Beneath his home-made coverings, coarse, but... more...