Ambarvalia: Poems

Chapman and Hall, 1849 - 155 Seiten

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Seite 53 - One port, methought, alike they sought, One purpose hold where'er they fare, — O bounding breeze, O rushing seas ! At last, at last, unite them there ! Qui LABORAT, ORAT.
Seite 52 - As ships becalmed at eve, that lay With canvas drooping, side by side, Two towers of sail, at dawn of day Are scarce long leagues apart descried ; When fell the night, up-sprung the breeze, And all the darkling hours they plied ; Nor dreamt but each the self-same seas By each was cleaving, side by side : 107 E'en so — but why the tale reveal Of those whom, year by year unchanged.
Seite 20 - O not unowned, Thou shalt unnamed forgive, In worldly walks the prayerless heart prepare; And if in work its life it seem to live, Shalt make that work be prayer.
Seite 52 - E'en so — but why the tale reveal Of those, whom year by year unchanged, Brief absence joined anew to feel, Astounded, soul from soul estranged? At dead of night their sails were filled, And onward each rejoicing steered—- Ah, neither blame, for neither willed, Or wist, what first with dawn appeared ! To veer, how vain ! On, onward strain, Brave barks ! In light, in darkness too, Through winds and tides one compass guides — To that, and your own selves, be true.
Seite 3 - THE human spirits saw I on a day, Sitting and looking each a different way ; And hardly tasking, subtly questioning, Another spirit went around the ring To each and each : and as he ceased his say, Each after each, I heard them singly sing, Some querulously high, some softly, sadly low, We know not — what avails to know ? We know not — wherefore need we know ? This answer gave they still unto his suing, We know not, let us do as we are doing.
Seite 37 - MY wind is turned to bitter north, That was so soft a south before ; My sky, that shone so sunny bright, With foggy gloom is clouded o'er : My gay green leaves are yellow-black, Upon the dank autumnal floor; For love, departed once, comes back No more again, no more. A roofless ruin lies my home, For winds to blow and rains to pour ; One frosty night befell, and lo, I find my summer days are o'er : The heart bereaved, of why and how Unknowing, knows that yet before It had what e'en to Memory now...
Seite 43 - HERE am I yet, another twelvemonth spent, One-third departed of the mortal span, Carrying on the child into the man, Nothing into reality. Sails rent, And rudder broken, — reason impotent, — Affections all unfixed ; so forth I fare On the mid seas unheedingly, so dare To do and to be done by, well content.
Seite 45 - How often sit I, poring o'er My strange distorted youth, Seeking in vain, in all my store, One feeling based on truth; Amid the maze of petty life A clue whereby to move, A spot whereon in toil and strife To dare to rest and love. So constant as my heart would be} So fickle as it must, 10 'Twere well for others as for me 'Twere dry as summer dust.
Seite 42 - And whether indeed they be or be not, Try not, test not, feel not, see not: 'Tis walk and dance, sit down and rise By leading, opening ne'er your eyes; Stunt sturdy limbs that Nature gave, And be drawn in a Bath chair along to the grave.
Seite 34 - Are there not, then, two musics unto men ? — One loud and bold and coarse, And overpowering still perforce All tone and tune beside ; Yet in despite its pride Only of fumes of foolish fancy bred, And sounding solely in the sounding head : The other, soft and low, Stealing whence we not know...

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