FROM 'THE SORROWS OF YOUNG WERTHER.&#039

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1. Lovest Thou Me? (John, xxi.16) Hark my soul! it is the Lord; ‘Tis Thy Saviour, hear His word; Jesus speaks and speaks to thee, “Say poor sinner, lovst thou me? “I deliver’d thee when bound, And when bleeding, heal’d thy wound; Sought thee wandering, set thee right, Turn’d thy darkness into light. “Can a woman’s tender care Cease […]...
2. Trilogy of Passion: I. TO WERTHER [This poem, written at the age of seventy-five, was appended to An edition of ‘Werther,’ published at that time.] ONCE more, then, much-wept shadow, thou dost dare Boldly to face the day’s clear light, To meet me on fresh blooming meadows fair, And dost not tremble at my sight. Those happy times appear return’d once […]...
3. The Sorrows of the Blind Pity the sorrows of the poor blind, For they can but little comfort find; As they walk along the street, They know not where to put their feet. They are deprived of that earthly joy Of seeing either man, woman, or boy; Sad and lonely through the world they go, Not knowing a friend from […]...
4. A Song Of A Young Lady To Her Ancient Lover Ancient Person, for whom I All the flattering youth defy, Long be it e’er thou grow old, Aching, shaking, crazy cold; But still continue as thou art, Ancient Person of my heart. On thy withered lips and dry, Which like barren furrows lie, Brooding kisses I will pour, Shall thy youthful heart restore, Such kind […]...
5. Song Rarely, rarely comest thou, Spirit of Delight! Wherefore hast thou left me now Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day ‘Tis since thou art fled away. How shall ever one like me Win thee back again? With the joyous and the free Thou wilt scoff at pain. Spirit false! thou hast […]...
6. Invocation Rarely, rarely, comest thou, Spirit of Delight! Wherefore hast thou left me now Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day ‘Tis since thou art fled away. How shall ever one like me Win thee back again? With the joyous and the free Thou wilt scoff at pain. Spirit false! thou hast […]...
7. Song: Rarely, rarely, comest thou Rarely, rarely, comest thou, Spirit of Delight! Wherefore hast thou left me now Many a day and night? Many a weary night and day ‘Tis since thou are fled away. How shall ever one like me Win thee back again? With the joyous and the free Thou wilt scoff at pain. Spirit false! thou hast […]...
8. Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, Live fairy-gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my […]...
9. Sonnet 89: Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault, And I will comment upon that offence; Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt, Against thy reasons making no defence. Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill, To set a form upon desirèd change, As I’ll my self disgrace, knowing thy will, […]...
10. Sonnet LXXXIX Say that thou didst forsake me for some fault, And I will comment upon that offence; Speak of my lameness, and I straight will halt, Against thy reasons making no defence. Thou canst not, love, disgrace me half so ill, To set a form upon desired change, As I’ll myself disgrace: knowing thy will, I […]...
11. Sonnet XXXV: Some, Misbelieving To Miracle Some, misbelieving and profane in love, When I do speak of miracles by thee, May say, that thou art flattered by me, Who only write my skill in verse to prove. See miracles, ye unbelieving, see A dumb-born Muse made t’express the mind, A cripple hand to write, yet lame by kind, One […]...
12. To S. M., A Young African Painter, On Seeing His Works O show the lab’ring bosom’s deep intent, And thought in living characters to paint, When first thy pencil did those beauties give, And breathing figures learnt from thee to live, How did those prospects give my soul delight, A new creation rushing on my sight? Still, wond’rous youth! each noble path pursue, On deathless glories […]...
13. On The Death Of A Young Lady Of Five Years Of Age FROM dark abodes to fair etherial light Th’ enraptur’d innocent has wing’d her flight; On the kind bosom of eternal love She finds unknown beatitude above. This known, ye parents, nor her loss deplore, She feels the iron hand of pain no more; The dispensations of unerring grace, Should turn your sorrows into grateful praise; […]...
14. O Beauty, Passing Beauty! O beauty, passing beauty! Sweetest sweet! How can thou let me waste my youth in sighs? I only ask to sit beside thy feet. Thou knowest I dare not look into thine eyes. Might I but kiss thy hand! I dare not fold My arms about thee scarcely dare to speak. And nothing seems to […]...
15. To A Young Ass Its mother being tethered near it Poor little Foal of an oppressиd race! I love the languid patience of thy face: And oft with gentle hand I give thee bread, And clap thy ragged coat, and pat thy head. But what thy dulled spirits hath dismay’d, That never thou dost sport along the glade? And […]...
16. Sardis (Revelations, iii. 1-6) “Write to Sardis,” saith the Lord, “And write what He declares, He whose Spirit, and whose word, Upholds the seven stars: All thy works and ways I search, Find thy zeal and love decay’d; Thou art call’d a living church, But thou art cold and dead. “Watch, remember, seek, and strive, Exert […]...
17. SONNET OF AUTUMN THEY say to me, thy clear and crystal eyes: “Why dost thou love me so, strange lover mine?” Be sweet, be still! My heart and soul despise All save that antique brute-like faith of thine; And will not bare the secret of their shame To thee whose hand soothes me to slumbers long, Nor their […]...
18. Sonnet 151: Love is too young to know what conscience is Love is too young to know what conscience is; Yet who knows not conscience is born of love? Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss, Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove. For thou betraying me, I do betray My nobler part to my gross body’s treason; My soul doth tell my body […]...
19. And Thou Art Dead, As Young and Fair And thou art dead, as young and fair As aught of mortal birth; And form so soft, and charms so rare, Too soon return’d to Earth! Though Earth receiv’d them in her bed, And o’er the spot the crowd may tread In carelessness or mirth, There is an eye which could not brook A moment […]...
20. Gods 1 THOUGHT of the Infinite-the All! Be thou my God. 2 Lover Divine, and Perfect Comrade! Waiting, content, invisible yet, but certain, Be thou my God. 3 Thou-thou, the Ideal Man! Fair, able, beautiful, content, and loving, Complete in Body, and dilate in Spirit, Be thou my God. 4 O Death-(for Life has served its […]...
21. Mismet He was leaning by a face, He was looking into eyes, And he knew a trysting-place, And he heard seductive sighs; But the face, And the eyes, And the place, And the sighs, Were not, alas, the right ones the ones meet for him Though fine and sweet the features, and the feelings all abrim. […]...
22. On the Death of a Young Gentleman Who taught thee conflict with the pow’rs of night, To vanquish satan in the fields of light? Who strung thy feeble arms with might unknown, How great thy conquest, and how bright thy crown! War with each princedom, throne, and pow’r is o’er, The scene is ended to return no more. O could my muse […]...
23. Sonnet LV: My Fair, If Thou Wilt My Fair, if thou wilt register my love, A world of volumes shall thereof arise; Preserve my tears, and thou thyself shalt prove A second flood, down-raining from mine eyes. Note by my sighs, and thine eyes shall behold The sunbeams smother’d with immortal smoke; And if by thee my prayers may be enroll’d, They […]...
24. To a Virtuous Young Lady Lady! that in the prime of earliest youth Wisely hast shunned the broad way and the green, And with those few art eminently seen, That labour up the Hill of Heavenly Truth, The better part with Mary and with Ruth Chosen thou hast, and they that overween, And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen, […]...
25. I. THE PARIAH'S PRAYER DREADED Brama, lord of might! All proceed from thee alone; Thou art he who judgeth right! Dost thou none but Brahmins own? Do but Rajahs come from thee? None but those of high estate? Didst not thou the ape create, Aye, and even such as we? We are not of noble kind, For with woe […]...
26. Has Sorrow Thy Young Days Shaded Has sorrow thy young days shaded, As clouds o’er the morning fleet? Too fast have those young days faded That, even in sorrow, were sweet? Does Time with his cold wing wither Each feeling that once was dear? Then, child of misfortune, come hither, I’ll weep with thee, tear for tear. Has love to that […]...
27. Elegy On The Death Of A Young Man Mournful groans, as when a tempest lowers, Echo from the dreary house of woe; Death-notes rise from yonder minster’s towers! Bearing out a youth, they slowly go; Yes! a youth unripe yet for the bier, Gathered in the spring-time of his days, Thrilling yet with pulses strong and clear, With the flame that in his […]...
28. The Higher Pantheism The sun, the moon, the stars, the seas, the hills and the plains,- Are not these, O Soul, the Vision of Him who reigns? Is not the Vision He, tho’ He be not that which He seems? Dreams are true while they last, and do we not live in dreams? Earth, these solid stars, this […]...
29. Sonnet XIII: Letters and Lines To the Shadow Letters and lines we see are soon defac’d, Metals do waste and fret with canker’s rust, The diamond shall once consume to dust, And freshest colors with foul stains disgrac’d; Paper and ink can paint but naked words, To write with blood of force offends the sight; And if with tears I […]...
30. The Sinner Lord, how I am all ague, when I seek What I have treasur’d in my memory! Since, if my soul make even with the week, Each seventh note by right is due to thee. I find there quarries of pil’d vanities, But shreds of holiness, that dare not venture To show their face, since cross […]...
31. Sonnet 126: O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power Dost hold Time’s fickle glass his fickle hour; Who hast by waning grown, and therein show’st Thy lovers withering, as thy sweet self grow’st. If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack, As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back, She keeps thee to this purpose, that […]...
32. Sonnet CXXVI O thou, my lovely boy, who in thy power Dost hold Time’s fickle glass, his sickle, hour; Who hast by waning grown, and therein show’st Thy lovers withering as thy sweet self grow’st; If Nature, sovereign mistress over wrack, As thou goest onwards, still will pluck thee back, She keeps thee to this purpose, that […]...
33. Sonnet 10: For shame, deny that thou bear'st love to any For shame, deny that thou bear’st love to any Who for thy self art so unprovident. Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many, But that thou none lov’st is most evident; For thou art so possessed with murd’rous hate, That ‘gainst thy self thou stick’st not to conspire, Seeking that beauteous roof to […]...
34. To Thee, Old Cause! TO thee, old Cause! Thou peerless, passionate, good cause! Thou stern, remorseless, sweet Idea! Deathless throughout the ages, races, lands! After a strange, sad war-great war for thee, (I think all war through time was really fought, and ever will be really fought, for thee;) These chants for thee-the eternal march of thee. Thou orb […]...
35. Psalm 31 part 1 v.5,13-19,22,23 C. M. Deliverance from death. Unto thine hand, O God of truth, My spirit I commit; Thou hast redeemed my soul from death, And saved me from the pit. The passions of my hope and fear Maintained a doubtful strife, While sorrow, pain, and sin conspired To take away my life. “My times are […]...
36. If I may have it, when it's dead If I may have it, when it’s dead, I’ll be contented so If just as soon as Breath is out It shall belong to me Until they lock it in the Grave, ‘Tis Bliss I cannot weigh For tho’ they lock Thee in the Grave, Myself can own the key Think of it Lover! I […]...
37. Psalm 80 The church’s prayer under affliction; or, The vineyard of God wasted. Great Shepherd of thine Israel, Who didst between the cherubs dwell, And lead the tribes, thy chosen sheep, Safe through the desert and the deep; Thy church is in the desert now, Shine from on high and guide us through; Turn us to thee, […]...
38. Young Munro the Sailor ‘Twas on a sunny morning in the month of May, I met a pretty damsel on the banks o’ the Tay; I said, My charming fair one, come tell to me I pray, Why do you walk alone on the banks o’ the Tay. She said, Kind sir, pity me, for I am in great […]...
39. A Dead Friend I. Gone, O gentle heart and true, Friend of hopes foregone, Hopes and hopeful days with you Gone? Days of old that shone Saw what none shall see anew, When we gazed thereon. Soul as clear as sunlit dew, Why so soon pass on, Forth from all we loved and knew Gone? II. Friend of […]...
40. Sonnet X For shame! deny that thou bear’st love to any, Who for thyself art so unprovident. Grant, if thou wilt, thou art beloved of many, But that thou none lovest is most evident; For thou art so possess’d with murderous hate That ‘gainst thyself thou stick’st not to conspire. Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate Which […]...