Poems

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B.H. Blackwell, 1907 - English poetry - 99 pages
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Page 40 - Your fingers touching mine! And now the time has come to say Farewell to London town; The prologue of our play is done, So ring the curtain down. There lies a crowded life ahead In field and sleepy lane, A fairer picture than we saw Framed in our window-pane. There'll be the stars on summer nights, The white moon through the trees, Moths, and the song of nightingales To float along the breeze. And in the morning we shall see The swallows in the sun, And hear the cuckoo on the hill Welcome a day begun....
Page 88 - THE LILIES OF THE FIELD To FLU THY soul is not enchanted by the moon ; No influential comet draws thy mind To steeps intolerable where all behind Is dark, and many ruined stars are strewn. But thou, contented, canst enthrall the tune That haunts each wood and every singing wind ; Thou, fortunate philosopher, canst find The dreams of Earth in every drowsy noon. Match not thy soul against the seraphim : They are no more than moths blown to and fro About the tempest of the eternal Will. Rest undismayed...
Page 88 - 11 see thee stand Alert to greet ns on the murky strand." Mr. Mackenzie's sonnets number hardly more than a dozen, but each is a gem. "The Lilies of the Field " shall be our selection, reluctantly leaving the beauty of the others to be inferred. " Thy soul is not enchanted by the moon ; No influential comet draws thy mind To steeps intolerable where all behind Is dark, and many ruined stars are strewn. But thou, contented, canst enthrall the...
Page 22 - LOVE IN NOVEMBER TO-DAY the world is chill with stagnant breath, Life is a web of half-forgotten dreams, The year a wayworn traveller nigh to death : The winter-weary winds, the sighing streams Are like the voices of the thin moonbeams ; The haughty sun is now no longer king. Love is the only constant thing, it seems ; We two who love may still remember Spring. ' We two
Page 22 - Love is herald of a new year's life. And yet how long it is, since you and I Went, hand in hand, to watch for one fair hour The river's silver shadows sweeping by. For us a moment's sadness was a shower, A moment's joy the beauty of a flower. Ah, sweet ! can you remember that last kiss When we were lord and lady of Love's tower, So high we seemed above the world's abyss ? How long it is before the violets, Spring's lowly penitauncers, sing their mass...
Page 87 - The wounds inflicted on me by Love's dart, That stung with such intolerable smart, Until to-day we vanquished Time and Pain. And now I wear this crimson diadem Where late my heart I did incarnadine With open wounds in passionate array, Unhealed until your eyes looked down at them, And crystallized their sanguine drops to shine In captured moments of our bridal day.
Page 66 - And when we shiver by the Stygian mere, Above the lamentations through the dark, Upon the bank remote, shall we not hear A hollow and attenuated bark ? Then with the hero-dogs we'll see thee stand Alert to greet us on the murky strand.
Page 39 - A SONG OF PARTING MY dear, the time has come to say Farewell to London town, Farewell to each familiar street, The room where we looked down Upon the people going by, The river flowing fast : The innumerable shine of lamps, The bridges and — our past. Our past of London days and nights, When every night we dreamed Of Love and Art and Happiness, And every day it seemed Ah! little room, you held my life, In you I found my all; A white hand on the mantelpiece, A shadow on the wall. My dear, what dinners...

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