Inscription 01 – For A Tablet At Godstow Nunnery

Related poetry:

1. Inscription 07 – For A Tablet On The Banks Of A Stream Stranger! awhile upon this mossy bank Recline thee. If the Sun rides high, the breeze, That loves to ripple o’er the rivulet, Will play around thy brow, and the cool sound Of running waters soothe thee. Mark how clear It sparkles o’er the shallows, and behold Where o’er its surface wheels with restless speed Yon […]...
2. Inscription 03 – For A Cavern That Overlooks The River Avon Enter this cavern Stranger! the ascent Is long and steep and toilsome; here awhile Thou mayest repose thee, from the noontide heat O’ercanopied by this arch’d rock that strikes A grateful coolness: clasping its rough arms Round the rude portal, the old ivy hangs Its dark green branches down, and the wild Bees, O’er its […]...
3. Inscription 08 – For The Cenotaph At Ermenonville STRANGER! the MAN OF NATURE lies not here: Enshrin’d far distant by his rival’s side His relics rest, there by the giddy throng With blind idolatry alike revered! Wiselier directed have thy pilgrim feet Explor’d the scenes of Ermenonville. ROUSSEAU Loved these calm haunts of Solitude and Peace; Here he has heard the murmurs of […]...
4. Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs No school of long experience, that the world Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares, To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood And view the haunts of nature. The calm shade Shall bring a […]...
5. Memorial Tablet Squire nagged and bullied till I went to fight, (Under Lord Derby’s Scheme). I died in hell – (They called it Passchendaele). My wound was slight, And I was hobbling back; and then a shell Burst slick upon the duck-boards: so I fell Into the bottomless mud, and lost the light. At sermon-time, while Squire […]...
6. Ripening The longer we are together The larger death grows around us. How many we know by now Who are dead! We, who were young, Now count the cost of having been. And yet as we know the dead We grow familiar with the world. We, who were young and loved each other Ignorantly, now come […]...
7. An Inscription A conqueror as provident as brave, He robbed the cradle to supply the grave. His reign laid quantities of human dust: He fell upon the just and the unjust....
8. 556. Inscription to Jessie Lewars THINE be the volumes, Jessy fair, And with them take the Poet’s prayer, That Fate may, in her fairest page, With ev’ry kindliest, best presage Of future bliss, enroll thy name: With native worth and spotless fame, And wakeful caution, still aware Of ill-but chief, Man’s felon snare; All blameless joys on earth we find, […]...
9. Inscription 06 – For A Monument In The New For This is the place where William’s kingly power Did from their poor and peaceful homes expel, Unfriended, desolate, and shelterless, The habitants of all the fertile track Far as these wilds extend. He levell’d down Their little cottages, he bade their fields Lie barren, so that o’er the forest waste He might most royally pursue […]...
10. Inscription 05 – For A Monument At Silbury-Hill This mound in some remote and dateless day Rear’d o’er a Chieftain of the Age of Hills, May here detain thee Traveller! from thy road Not idly lingering. In his narrow house Some Warrior sleeps below: his gallant deeds Haply at many a solemn festival The Bard has harp’d, but perish’d is the song Of […]...
11. Avising The Bright Beams Avising the bright beams of these fair eyes Where he is that mine oft moisteth and washeth, The wearied mind straight from the heart departeth For to rest in his worldly paradise And find the sweet bitter under this guise. What webs he hath wrought well he perceiveth Whereby with himself on love he plaineth […]...
12. 311. On the Birth of a Posthumous Child SWEET flow’ret, pledge o’ meikle love, And ward o’ mony a prayer, What heart o’ stane wad thou na move, Sae helpless, sweet, and fair? November hirples o’er the lea, Chill, on thy lovely form: And gane, alas! the shelt’ring tree, Should shield thee frae the storm. May He who gives the rain to pour, […]...
13. If grief for grief can touch thee If grief for grief can touch thee, If answering woe for woe, If any truth can melt thee Come to me now! I cannot be more lonely, More drear I cannot be! My worn heart beats so wildly ‘Twill break for thee And when the world despises When Heaven repels my prayer Will not mine […]...
14. Inscription for my little son's silver plate When thou dost eat from off this plate, I charge thee be thou temperate; Unto thine elders at the board Do thou sweet reverence accord; And, though to dignity inclined, Unto the serving-folk be kind; Be ever mindful of the poor, Nor turn them hungry from the door; And unto God, for health and food […]...
15. 467. Inscription to Miss Graham of Fintry HERE, where the Scottish Muse immortal lives, In sacred strains and tuneful numbers joined, Accept the gift; though humble he who gives, Rich is the tribute of the grateful mind. So may no ruffian-feeling in my breast, Discordant, jar thy bosom-chords among; But Peace attune thy gentle soul to rest, Or Love, ecstatic, wake his […]...
16. 540. Inscription to Chloris ‘TIS Friendship’s pledge, my young, fair Friend, Nor thou the gift refuse, Nor with unwilling ear attend The moralising Muse. Since thou, in all thy youth and charms, Must bid the world adieu, (A world ‘gainst Peace in constant arms) To join the Friendly Few. Since, thy gay morn of life o’ercast, Chill came the […]...
17. Dreams While on my lonely couch I lie, I seldom feel myself alone, For fancy fills my dreaming eye With scenes and pleasures of its own. Then I may cherish at my breast An infant’s form beloved and fair, May smile and soothe it into rest With all a Mother’s fondest care. How sweet to feel […]...
18. Inscription For A Fountain On A Heath This Sycamore, oft musical with bees, Such tents the Patriarchs loved! O long unharmed May all its agйd boughs o’er-canopy The small round basin, which this jutting stone Keeps pure from falling leaves! Long may the Spring, Quietly as a sleeping infant’s breath, Send up cold waters to the traveller With soft and even pulse! […]...
19. To Friends At Home TO friends at home, the lone, the admired, the lost The gracious old, the lovely young, to May The fair, December the beloved, These from my blue horizon and green isles, These from this pinnacle of distances I, The unforgetful, dedicate....
20. Inscription 04 – For The Apartment In Chepstow-Castle For thirty years secluded from mankind, Here Marten linger’d. Often have these walls Echoed his footsteps, as with even tread He paced around his prison: not to him Did Nature’s fair varieties exist; He never saw the Sun’s delightful beams, Save when thro’ yon high bars it pour’d a sad And broken splendor. Dost thou […]...
21. Inscription 02 – For A Column At Newbury Art thou a Patriot Traveller? on this field Did FALKLAND fall the blameless and the brave Beneath a Tyrant’s banners: dost thou boast Of loyal ardor? HAMBDEN perish’d here, The rebel HAMBDEN, at whose glorious name The heart of every honest Englishman Beats high with conscious pride. Both uncorrupt, Friends to their common country both, […]...
22. Sonnet 91: Some glory in their birth, some in their skill Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, Some in their wealth, some in their body’s force, Some in their garments though new-fangled ill, Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse; And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure, Wherein it finds a joy above the rest, But these particulars are not […]...
23. Sonnet XCI Some glory in their birth, some in their skill, Some in their wealth, some in their bodies’ force, Some in their garments, though new-fangled ill, Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse; And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure, Wherein it finds a joy above the rest: But these particulars are not […]...
24. An Indian Love Song He Lift up the veils that darken the delicate moon Of thy glory and grace, Withhold not, O love, from the night Of my longing the joy of thy luminous face, Give me a spear of the scented keora Guarding thy pinioned curls, Or a silken thread from the fringes That trouble the dream of […]...
25. The Change POOR River, now thou’rt almost dry, What Nymph, or Swain, will near thee lie? Since brought, alas! to sad Decay, What Flocks, or Herds, will near thee stay? The Swans, that sought thee in thy Pride, Now on new Streams forgetful ride: And Fish, that in thy Bosom lay, Chuse in more prosp’rous Floods to […]...
26. 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 […]...
27. The Two Trees Beloved, gaze in thine own heart, The holy tree is growing there; From joy the holy branches start, And all the trembling flowers they bear. The changing colours of its fruit Have dowered the stars with metry light; The surety of its hidden root Has planted quiet in the night; The shaking of its leafy […]...
28. The Young that Died in Beauty If souls should only sheen so bright In heaven as in e’thly light, An’ nothen better wer the cease, How comely still, in sheape an’ feace, Would many reach thik happy pleace, – The hopevul souls that in their prime Ha’ seem’d a-took avore their time, – The young that died in beauty. But when […]...
29. Growing Old In some summers there is so much fruit, The peasants decide not to reap any more. Not having reaped you, oh my days, My nights, have I let the slow flames Of your lovely produce fall into ashes? My nights, my days, you have borne so much! All your branches have retained the gesture Of […]...
30. The Stranger The Stranger within my gate, He may be true or kind, But he does not talk my talk I cannot feel his mind. I see the face and the eyes and the mouth, But not the soul behind. The men of my own stock, They may do ill or well, But they tell the lies […]...
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. Work chapter VII Then a ploughman said, “Speak to us of Work.” And he answered, saying: You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth. For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the seasons, and to step out of life’s procession, that marches in majesty and proud submission […]...
33. Dream Song 90: Op. posth. no. 13 In the night-reaches dreamed he of better graces, Of liberations, and beloved faces, Such as now ere dawn he sings. It would not be easy, accustomed to these things, To give up the old world, but he could try; Let it all rest, have a good cry. Let Randall rest, whom your self-torturing Cannot restore […]...
34. Sonnet 15 – Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear Too calm and sad a face in front of thine; For we two look two ways, and cannot shine With the same sunlight on our brow and hair. On me thou lookest with no doubting care, As on a bee shut in a crystalline; Since sorrow hath […]...
35. Inscription SMALL is the theme of the following Chant, yet the greatest-namely, One’s-Self-that wondrous thing a simple, separate person. That, for the use of the New World, I sing. Man’s physiology complete, from top to toe, I sing. Not physiognomy alone, nor brain alone, is worthy for the muse;-I say the Form complete is worthier far. […]...
36. 373. Song-The Slave's Lament IT was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral, For the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O: Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more; And alas! I am weary, weary O: Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more; And alas! I am weary, weary O. All on […]...
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. 521. Inscription for an Alter of Independence THOU of an independent mind, With soul resolv’d, with soul resign’d; Prepar’d Power’s proudest frown to brave, Who wilt not be, nor have a slave; Virtue alone who dost revere, Thy own reproach alone dost fear- Approach this shrine, and worship here....
39. 153. Inscription for the Headstone of Fergusson the Poet NO 1 sculptured marble here, nor pompous lay, “No storied urn nor animated bust;” This simple stone directs pale Scotia’s way, To pour her sorrows o’er the Poet’s dust. ADDITIONAL STANZASShe mourns, sweet tuneful youth, thy hapless fate; Tho’ all the powers of song thy fancy fired, Yet Luxury and Wealth lay by in state, […]...
40. Inscription for the Ceiling of a Bedroom Daily dawns another day; I must up, to make my way. Though I dress and drink and eat, Move my fingers and my feet, Learn a little, here and there, Weep and laugh and sweat and swear, Hear a song, or watch a stage, Leave some words upon a page, Claim a foe, or hail […]...