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Books Books 1 - 10 of 87 on My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust; And now my heart is as a broken....  
" My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust; And now my heart is as a broken fount, Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever From the dank thoughts that shiver Upon the sighful branches of my mind. "
Poems - Page 53
by Francis Joseph Thompson - 1893
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A daughter of music

Gertrude Colmore - 1894 - 369 pages
...the passion of a love that was too strong to cease and too little strong to forgive. CHAPTER XXIII. My freshness spent its wavering shower 'i the dust ; And now my heart is as a broken fount, Wherein tear drippings stagnate, spilt down ever From the dank thoughts that shiver Upon the sighful branches...
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Lyra sacra: a book of religious verse

Religious poetry, English - 1903 - 381 pages
...mount ? Ah ! must Designer infinite ! Ah ! must thou char the wood ere thou canst limn with it ? My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust...the sighful branches of my mind. Such is ; what is it to be ? The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind ? I dimly guess what Time in mists confounds...
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Evolution of Expression Volume IV - Revised

Charles Wesley Emerson - 1905
...years VIII. Designer infinite ! Ah ! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it ? My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust...what is to be? The pulp so bitter, how shall taste ihe rind ? I dimly gueoS what Time in mists confounds ; Yet ever and anon a trumpet sounds From the...
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Selected poems of Francis Thompson

Francis Thompson - Poetry - 1908 - 142 pages
...mount? Ah! must Designer infinite! Ah! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it? My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust;...that shiver Upon the sighful branches of my mind. j. Such is; what is to be? The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind? I dimly guess what Time...
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A Poet's Anthology of Poems

Alfred Noyes - English poetry - 1911 - 407 pages
...? Ah ! must Designer infinite ! Ah ! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it ? My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust...fount, Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever Such is ; what is to be ? The pulp so bitter, how shall taste the rind ? I dimly guess what Time in...
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Poems of sentiment and reflection

Poetry - 1912
...mount? Ah! must Designer infinite! Ah! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it? My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust: And now my heart is as a broken fount, 3022 Poems of Sentiment and Reflection Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever From the dank...
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The Psychoanalytic Review, Volume 5

Psychology - 1918
...those who like Francis Thompson look back upon their withered shriveled life, who with him must say My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust...that Shiver upon the sighful branches of my mind. For such as these there is no human consolation, there is no natural power of sublimation, there is...
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An Evening in My Library Among the English Poets

Stephen Coleridge - English poetry - 1916 - 217 pages
...difficulties of diction are a delight. The following is a fair example of Francis Thompson's style : My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust,...tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever From the dark thoughts that shiver Upon the sighful branches of my mind. Such is : what is to be ? The pulp...
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Some Evidences of Mysticism in English Poetry of the Nineteenth Century

Sister Mary Pius Neenan - English poetry - 1916 - 85 pages
...the wood ere Thou canst limn with it?" 2s6 but the mood is vanishing: "Ah! must Designer infinite! "And now my heart is as a broken fount, Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spill down ever From the dark thoughts that shine Upon the sighful branches of my mind. Such is; what...
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Browning to Rupert Brooke

Thomas Humphry Ward - English poetry - 1918
...mount? Ah! must Designer infinite! Ah! must Thou char the wood ere Thou canst limn with it? My freshness spent its wavering shower i' the dust; And now my heart is a broken fount, Wherein tear-drippings stagnate, spilt down ever From the dank thoughts that shiver...
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