The Noble Balm

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1. To His Noble Friend, Mr. Richard Lovelace, Upon His Poems Sir, Our times are much degenerate from those Which your sweet muse with your fair fortune chose, And as complexions alter with the climes, Our wits have drawn the infection of our times. That candid age no other way could tell To be ingenious, but by speaking well. Who best could praise had then the […]...
2. Amoretti LXXIX: Men Call you Fair Men call you fair, and you do credit it, For that your self ye daily such do see: But the true fair, that is the gentle wit, And vertuous mind, is much more prais’d of me. For all the rest, how ever fair it be, Shall turn to naught and lose that glorious hue: But […]...
3. Your noble reign The man whose term we would remember as our longest, Constant serving Head of State, besides the late Sir Robert Gordon Menzies, turned 67 yesterday. Congratulations John, You’ve run a long and torrid race, kept up a frenzied pace As leader of the pack. When looking back you’ll smile no Doubt, take time out to […]...
4. Sonnet XXI So is it not with me as with that Muse Stirr’d by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven itself for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse Making a couplement of proud compare, With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems, With April’s first-born flowers, and all […]...
5. Sonnet 21: So is it not with me as with that muse So is it not with me as with that muse, Stirred by a painted beauty to his verse, Who heaven it self for ornament doth use And every fair with his fair doth rehearse, Making a couplement of proud compare With sun and moon, with earth and sea’s rich gems, With April’s first-born flowers, and […]...
6. Patriotism 01 Innominatus BREATHES there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, ‘This is my own, my native land!’ Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d As home his footsteps he hath turn’d From wandering on a foreign strand? If such there breathe, go, mark him well; For him no Minstrel raptures swell; […]...
7. Sonnet XCII But do thy worst to steal thyself away, For term of life thou art assured mine, And life no longer than thy love will stay, For it depends upon that love of thine. Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs, When in the least of them my life hath end. I see […]...
8. Sonnet 92: But do thy worst to steal thy self away But do thy worst to steal thy self away, For term of life thou art assurèd mine, And life no longer than thy love will stay, For it depends upon that love of thine. Then need I not to fear the worst of wrongs, When in the least of them my life hath end; I […]...
9. Sonnet 134: So, now I have confessed that he is thine So, now I have confessed that he is thine, And I my self am mortgaged to thy will, Myself I’ll forfeit, so that other mine Thou wilt restore to be my comfort still. But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, For thou art covetous, and he is kind, He learned but surety-like […]...
10. Sonnet LXVI TO all those happy blessings which ye haue, With plenteous hand by heauen vpon you thrown: This one disparagement they to you gaue, That ye your loue lent to so meane a one. Yee whose high worths surpassing paragon, Could not on earth haue found one fit for mate, Ne but in heauen matchable to […]...
11. Sonnet CXXXIV So, now I have confess’d that he is thine, And I myself am mortgaged to thy will, Myself I’ll forfeit, so that other mine Thou wilt restore, to be my comfort still: But thou wilt not, nor he will not be free, For thou art covetous and he is kind; He learn’d but surety-like to […]...
12. Good Friday O my chief good, How shall I measure out thy blood? How shall I count what thee befell, And each grief tell? Shall I thy woes Number according to thy foes? Or, since one star show’d thy first breath, Shall all thy death? Or shall each leaf, Which falls in Autumn, score a grief? Or […]...
13. SONG OF FELLOWSHIP [Written and sung in honour of the birthday Of the Pastor Ewald at the time of Goethe’s happy connection with Lily.] IN ev’ry hour of joy That love and wine prolong, The moments we’ll employ To carol forth this song! We’re gathered in His name, Whose power hath brought us here; He kindled first our […]...
14. 156. Verses inscribed under a Noble Earl's Picture WHOSE 1 is that noble, dauntless brow? And whose that eye of fire? And whose that generous princely mien, E’en rooted foes admire? Stranger! to justly show that brow, And mark that eye of fire, Would take His hand, whose vernal tints His other works admire. Bright as a cloudless summer sun, With stately port […]...
15. DEATH-LAMENT OF THE NOBLE WIFE OF ASAN AGA [From the Morlack.) WHAT is yonder white thing in the forest? Is it snow, or can it swans perchance be? Were it snow, ere this it had been melted, Were it swans, they all away had hastend. Snow, in truth, it is not, swans it is not, ‘Tis the shining tents of Asan Aga. He […]...
16. They are all Gone into the World of Light 1 They are all gone into the world of light! 2 And I alone sit ling’ring here; 3 Their very memory is fair and bright, 4 And my sad thoughts doth clear. 5 It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, 6 Like stars upon some gloomy grove, 7 Or those faint beams in which […]...
17. Friends Departed They are all gone into the world of light! And I alone sit ling’ring here; Their very memory is fair and bright, And my sad thoughts doth clear. It glows and glitters in my cloudy breast, Like stars upon some gloomy grove, Or those faint beams in which this hill is drest After the sun’s […]...
18. Song Who hath his fancy pleased With fruits of happy sight, Let here his eyes be raised On Nature’s sweetest light; A light which doth dissever And yet unite the eyes, A light which, dying never, Is cause the looker dies. She never dies, but lasteth In life of lover’s heart; He ever dies that wasteth […]...
19. National Monuments Count not the cost of honour to the dead! The tribute that a mighty nation pays To those who loved her well in former days Means more than gratitude for glories fled; For every noble man that she hath bred, Lives in the bronze and marble that we raise, Immortalized by art’s immortal praise, To […]...
20. Kill your Balm and its Odors bless you Kill your Balm and its Odors bless you Bare your Jessamine to the storm And she will fling her maddest perfume Haply your Summer night to Charm Stab the Bird that built in your bosom Oh, could you catch her last Refrain Bubble! “forgive” “Some better” Bubble! “Carol for Him when I am gone”!...
21. POPPIES ON LUDLOW CASTLE THROUGH halls of vanished pleasure, And hold of vanished power, And crypt of faith forgotten, A came to Ludlow tower. A-top of arch and stairway, Of crypt and donjan cell, Of council hall, and chamber, Of wall, and ditch, and well, High over grated turrets Where clinging ivies run, A thousand scarlet poppies Enticed the […]...
22. Sonnet CXLVIII O me, what eyes hath Love put in my head, Which have no correspondence with true sight! Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled, That censures falsely what they see aright? If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, What means the world to say it is not so? If it be […]...
23. To My Lord Fairfax Fairfax, whose Name in Arms through Europe rings, And fills all Mouths with Envy or with Praise, And all her Jealous Monarchs with Amaze. And Rumours loud which daunt remotest Kings, Thy firm unshaken Valour ever brings Victory home, while new Rebellions raise Their Hydra-heads, and the false North displays Her broken League to Imp […]...
24. Psalm 84 How lovely are thy dwellings fair! O Lord of Hoasts, how dear The pleasant Tabernacles are! Where thou do’st dwell so near. My Soul doth long and almost die Thy Courts O Lord to see, My heart and flesh aloud do crie, O living God, for thee. There ev’n the Sparrow freed from wrong Hath […]...
25. Sonnet 148: O me! what eyes hath love put in my head O me! what eyes hath love put in my head, Which have no correspondence with true sight! Or, if they have, where is my judgment fled, That censures falsely what they see aright? If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, What means the world to say it is not so? If it be […]...
26. Sonnet 25: Let those who are in favour with their stars Let those who are in favour with their stars Of public honour and proud titles boast, Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars, Unlooked for joy in that I honour most. Great princes’ favourites their fair leaves spread, But as the marigold at the sun’s eye, And in themselves their pride lies burièd, For […]...
27. Sonnets XXV: Let those who are in favour with their stars Let those who are in favour with their stars Of public honour and proud titles boast, Whilst I, whom fortune of such triumph bars, Unlook’d for joy in that I honour most. Great princes’ favourites their fair leaves spread But as the marigold at the sun’s eye, And in themselves their pride lies buried, For […]...
28. Psalm 119 part 11 Breathing after holiness. Ver. 5,33 O that the Lord would guide my ways To keep his statutes still! O that my God would grant me grace To know and do his will! Ver. 29 O send thy Spirit down to write Thy law upon my heart! Nor let my tongue indulge deceit, Nor act the […]...
29. Poor Poet ‘A man should write to please himself,’ He proudly said. Well, see his poems on the shelf, Dusty, unread. When he came to my shop each day, So peaked and cold, I’d sneak one of his books away And say ’twas sold. And then by chance he looked below, And saw a stack Of his […]...
30. Sirena NEAR to the silver Trent SIRENA dwelleth; She to whom Nature lent All that excelleth; By which the Muses late And the neat Graces Have for their greater state Taken their places; Twisting an anadem Wherewith to crown her, As it belong’d to them Most to renown her. On thy bank, In a rank, Let […]...
31. In Honour of the City of London LONDON, thou art of townes A per se. Soveraign of cities, seemliest in sight, Of high renoun, riches and royaltie; Of lordis, barons, and many a goodly knyght; Of most delectable lusty ladies bright; Of famous prelatis, in habitis clericall; Of merchauntis full of substaunce and of myght: London, thou art the flour of Cities […]...
32. Amoretti LXXIV: Most Happy Letters Most happy letters, fram’d by skilful trade, With which that happy name was first design’d: The which three times thrice happy hath me made, With gifts of body, fortune, and of mind. The first my being to me gave by kind, From mother’s womb deriv’d by due descent, The second is my sovereign Queen most […]...
33. To Ben Jonson upon Occasion of his Ode of Defiance Annexed t ‘Tis true, dear Ben, thy just chastising hand Hath fix’d upon the sotted age a brand To their swoll’n pride and empty scribbling due; It can nor judge, nor write, and yet ’tis true Thy comic muse, from the exalted line Touch’d by thy Alchemist, doth since decline From that her zenith, and foretells a […]...
34. Sonnet LXXIIII MOst happy letters fram’d by skilfull trade, With which that happy name was first defynd: The which three times thrise happy hath me made, With guifts of body, fortune and of mind. The first my being to me gaue by kind, From mothers womb deriu’d by dew descent, The second is my souereigne Queene most […]...
35. To Captain H – d, of the 65th Regiment Say, muse divine, can hostile scenes delight The warrior’s bosom in the fields of fight? Lo! here the christian and the hero join With mutual grace to form the man divine. In H – D see with pleasure and surprise, Where valour kindles, and where virtue lies: Go, hero brave, still grace the post of […]...
36. Break Of Day ‘Tis true, ’tis day; what though it be? O wilt thou therefore rise from me? Why should we rise? because ’tis light? Did we lie down, because ’twas night? Love which in spite of darkness brought us hither, Should in despite of light keep us together. Light hath no tongue, but is all eye; If […]...
37. Sonnet 104: To me, fair friend, you never can be old To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride, Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned In process of the seasons have I seen, Three April perfumes in three […]...
38. Sonnet CIV To me, fair friend, you never can be old, For as you were when first your eye I eyed, Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold Have from the forests shook three summers’ pride, Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turn’d In process of the seasons have I seen, Three April perfumes in three […]...
39. Sonnet LXXIX MEn call you fayre, and you doe credit it, For that your selfe ye dayly such doe see: But the trew fayre, that is the gentle wit, And vertuous mind is much more praysd of me. For all the rest, how euer fayre it be, Shall turne to nought and loose that glorious hew: But […]...
40. To the President of Magdalen College, Oxford Since now from woodland mist and flooded clay I am fled beside the steep Devonian shore, Nor stand for welcome at your gothic door, ‘Neath the fair tower of Magdalen and May, Such tribute, Warren, as fond poets pay For generous esteem, I write, not more Enhearten’d than my need is, reckoning o’er My life-long […]...