Poetry Books

INVOCATION (From a High Cliff)Sweep unrestOut of my blood,Winds of the sea! Sweep the fogOut of my brainFor I am oneWho has told Life he will be free.Who will not doubt of work that's done,Who will not fear the work to do.Who will hold peaks PrometheanBetter than all Jove's honey-dew.Who when the Vulture tears his breastWill smile into the Terror's Eyes.Who for the World has this... more...

PREFACE This little book was written by four friends, three of them under-graduates at Oxford, and all of them penetrated with the spirit of the higher culture of our time. The poems, it is clear, have been carefully selected; and, it is probable, have been diligently polished. There is not one which is not remarkable for delicacy of style and conscious aiming after excellence in art. Whether these... more...

RETROSPECTION.I'd wandered, for a week or more,Through hills, and dells, and doleful green'ry,Lodging at any carnal door,Sustaining life on pork, and scenery.A weary scribe, I'd just let slipMy collar, for a short vacation,And started on a walking trip,That cheapest form of dissipation—And vilest, Oh! confess my pen,That I, prosaic, rather hate your"Ode to a Sky-lark" sort of... more...

ANCIENT BANNER.In boundless mercy, the Redeemer left,The bosom of his Father, and assumedA servant's form, though he had reigned a king,In realms of glory, ere the worlds were made,Or the creating words, "Let there be light"In heaven were uttered. But though veiled in flesh,His Deity and his Omnipotence,Were manifest in miracles. DiseaseFled at his bidding, and the buried deadRose from the... more...

FROM THE PENTLANDS LOOKING NORTH AND SOUTH Around my feet the clouds are drawnIn the cold mystery of the dawn;No breezes cheer, no guests intrudeMy mossy, mist-clad solitude;When sudden down the steeps of skyFlames a long, lightening wind. On highThe steel-blue arch shines clear, and far,In the low lands where cattle are,Towns smoke. And swift, a haze, a gleam,—The Firth lies like a frozen... more...

JONGLEURS. What is the stir in the street?Hurry of feet!And after,A sound as of pipes and of tabers! Men of the conflicts and labors,Struggling and shifting and shoving,Pushing and pounding your neighbors,Fighting for leeway for laughter,Toiling for leisure for loving!Hark, through the window and up to the rafter,Madder and merrier,Deeper and verier,Sweeter, contrarier,Dafter and dafter,A song... more...

The reader of to-day will not forget, I trust, that it is nearly a quarter of a century since these papers were written. Statements which were true then are not necessarily true now. Thus, the speed of the trotting horse has been so much developed that the record of the year when the fastest time to that date was given must be very considerably altered, as may be seen by referring to a note on page 49... more...

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock S'io credesse che mia risposta fosseA persona che mai tornasse al mondo,Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondoNon torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero,Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo. Let us go then, you and I,When the evening is spread out against the skyLike a patient etherized upon a table;Let us go, through... more...

SIGHT AND INSIGHT. 'Wisdom is easily seen by them that love her, and is foundby them that seek her.To think therefore upon her is perfect understanding.' WISDOM, vi. I Secret was the garden;Set i' the pathless aweWhere no star its breath can draw.Life, that is its warden,Sits behind the fosse of death. Mine eyes saw not,and I saw. II It was a mazeful wonder;Thrice three times it was... more...

POETRY FOR POETRY'S SAKE One who, after twenty years, is restored to the University where he was taught and first tried to teach, and who has received at the hands of his Alma Mater an honour of which he never dreamed, is tempted to speak both of himself and of her. But I remember that you have come to listen to my thoughts about a great subject, and not to my feelings about myself; and, of... more...