The Professor: And Other Poems

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John Lane, 1900 - 110 pages
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Page 96 - Immortal made, old knights and spouses true ; And far as his enkindled eyes could scan, He shot his arrowy thought, and pierced, and knew The soul of man. Or in the village temple, morn by morn...
Page 98 - Strong words, sweet motions of bewildering grace, Not these receive at God's all-judging Hand The loftiest place, But they who keep, through warfare and through ease, Tho...
Page 5 - ON THE HILL I WOULD not dwell with Passion ; Passion grows By what he feeds on — sense and sound and sight— The myriad bubbles dancing to the light, The frenzied fragrance of the wanton rose. But Love may dwell with me : pure Love, that glows The richer through the cold and lonely night; And gilds with warm effulgence, brave and bright, The frosty sparkle of unsullied snows.
Page 7 - THIS is my chiefest torment, that behind This brave and subtle spirit, this swift brain, There sits and shivers, in a cell of pain, A central atom, melancholy, blind, Which is myself : tho...
Page 8 - I cheat him dreaming, slip my rigorous chain, Free as a skiff before the dancing wind. Then he awakes, and vexed that I am glad, In dreary malice strains some nimble chord, Pricks his thin claw within some tingling nerve : And all at once I falter, start, and swerve From my true course, and fall, unmanned and sad, Into gross darkness, tangible, abhorred.
Page 112 - Mr. Benson is an accomplished writer of verse. He is sincere, unaffected, and has observed certain things which most people do not observe, and with so vivid an interest in them himself that his record of these things in verse seems to suggest a new kind of poetic substance.
Page 94 - GIVE thanks to God ! our Hero is at rest, Who more than all hath laboured, striven, aspired ; And now hath won his sleep — the last — the best His soul desired. Now, though the warlike rumours swiftly run, Though mighty nations toss in fierce unrest, Though the harsh thunder of the throbbing gun Roars in the West, Here all is still : beneath his castle walls Sprouts blade, and bush, and every tender thing, And hark, the jocund throstle ! how she calls To Hope and Spring...
Page 95 - Freedom and God! — these first — but still he served All peaceful labours, and the world's strong youth ; Yet in the wildest onset, never swerved From sternest truth. The fight he scorned not; 'twas the prize he scorned ! He chose the scars and not the gauds of fame, Gave crowns to others, keeping unadorned His homely name. Spring after spring, beneath the budding elm, Not worn with toil, yet joyful in release, He shook the dust of battle from his helm, And practised peace. Intent for rest —...
Page 94 - Peace on the smitten hearts that sorrow near! Now that the toil-worn warrior sinks to sleep, The nations listen, half afraid to hear A nation weep; And patriots weep, strong souls on alien shores, And men whose feet with saving peace are shod, And every heart that silently adores Freedom and God.
Page 97 - ... made, old knights and spouses true ; And far as his enkindled eyes could scan, He shot his arrowy thought, and pierced, and knew The soul of man. Or in the village temple, morn by morn, He cleansed his pure heart with a humble prayer, And rose on Zion's songs, beyond the bourne Of earthly care ; And last the Father willed one pang of love, From wisdom's fiercest fire, one glowing coal Should touch his lips, to chasten and to prove The stainless soul. Swift, swift was patience perfect : where...

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