Love’s Harvest poem – Alfred Austin
Nay, do not quarrel with the seasons, dear, Nor make an enemy of friendly Time. The fruit and foliage of the failing year Rival the buds and blossoms of its prime. Is not the harvest moon as round and bright As that to which the nightingales did sing? And thou, that call’st thyself my […]
Love’s Fitfulness poem – Alfred Austin
You say that I am fitful. Sweet, ’tis true; But ’tis that I your fitfulness obey. If you are April, how can I be May, Or flaunt bright roses when you wear sad rue? Shine like the sun, and my sky will be blue; Sing, and the lark shall envy me my lay: I […]
Wordsworth At Dove Cottage poem – Alfred Austin
Wise Wordsworth, to avert your ken, From half of human fate. What is there in the ways of men, Their struggles, or their state, To make the calm recluse forswear The garden path, the fire-side chair, To journey with the Great? The narrowest hamlet lends the heart A realm as rich and wide As […]
Winter Violets poem – Alfred Austin
Here are sad flowers, with wintry weeping wet, Dews of the dark that drench the violet. Thus over Her, whom death yet more endears, Nature and Man together blend their tears. Alfred AustinAlfred Austin (1835 – 1913) was an English journalist and a poet who was appointed Poet Laureate in 1896, after an […]
The Wind Speaks poem – Alfred Austin
“In the depth of Night, on the heights of Day, Would you know where I rest or roam? In vain will you search, for I nowhere stay, And the Universe is my home. “When you think to descry on the craggy steep My skirts as I mount and flee From the wrecks I have […]
“Why should I, from this long and losing strife ” poem – Alfred Austin
Why should I, from this long and losing strife When summoned to depart, halt half-afraid? Death is full quittance for the debts of life, Discharging the account, though still unpaid. Who is it that can say he still hath met Friendship’s just claim and Duty’s punctual call? How little do we give for what […]
Why England Is Conservative poem – Alfred Austin
Because of our dear Mother, the fair Past, On whom twin Hope and Memory safely lean, And from whose fostering wisdom none shall wean Their love and faith, while love and faith shall last: Mother of happy homes and Empire vast, Of hamlets meek, and many a proud demesne, Blue spires of cottage smoke […]
Who Would Not Die For England! poem – Alfred Austin
Who would not die for England! This great thought, Through centuries of Glory handed down By storied vault in monumental fane, And homeless grave in lone barbaric lands, Homeless but not forgotten, so can thrill With its imperious call the hearts of men, That suddenly from dwarf ignoble lives They rise to heights of […]
“When the reaper lays the sickle by ” poem – Alfred Austin
When the reaper lays the sickle by, And taketh down the flail: When all we prized, and all we planned, Is ripe and stored at last, And Autumn looks across the land, And ponders on the Past. Alfred AustinAlfred Austin (1835 – 1913) was an English journalist and a poet who was appointed […]
When Runnels Began To Leap And Sing poem – Alfred Austin
When runnels began to leap and sing, And daffodil sheaths to blow, Then out of the thicket came blue-eyed Spring, And laughed at the melting snow. “It is time, old Winter, you went,” she said, And flitted across the plain, With an iris scarf around her head, And diamonded with rain. When the hawthorn […]
” When in the long–drawn avenues of Thought” poem – Alfred Austin
When in the long-drawn avenues of Thought I halt, and look before me and behind, And seek what erst I all too little sought, Some spot secure of rest, I do not find. Retrace my steps I dare not, lest each nook I late rejected should reject me now, And sweetest arbours, restlessly forsook, […]
“What ails you, Ocean, that nor near nor far” poem – Alfred Austin
The Mountains What ails you, Ocean, that nor near nor far, Find you a bourne to ease your burdened breast, But throughout time inexorable are Never at rest? With foaming mouth and fluttering crest you leap Impatiently towards never-shifting beach, Then wheel, and hurry to some distant deep Beyond your reach. Nor golden sands […]
“`Were I a Poet, I would dwell” poem – Alfred Austin
`Were I a Poet, I would dwell, Not upon lonely height, Nor cloistered in disdainful cell From human sound and sight. I would live nestled near my kind, Deep in a garden garth, That they who loved my verse might find A pathway to my hearth. `I would not sing of sceptred Kings, The […]
Since We Must Die poem – Alfred Austin
Though we must die, I would not die When fields are brown and bleak, When wild-geese stream across the sky, And the cart-lodge timbers creak. For it would be so lone and drear To sleep beneath the snow, When children carol Christmas cheer, And Christmas rafters glow. Nor would I die, though we must […]
Wardens Of The Wave poem – Alfred Austin
Not to exult in braggart vein Over a gallant foe, Or boast of triumphs on the main, The Gods alone bestow; Vainglorious clarion, clamorous drum, For which the vulgar crave, Not these, not any such, become The Wardens of the Wave. No, but when slumbering war-dogs wake, To the last gasp of breath Face […]
To The Autumn Wind poem – Alfred Austin
O envious Autumn wind, to blow From covert vale and woodland crest The mellow leaves, just as they glow Brightest and loveliest; To strip the maples black and bare, To rob the beeches’ russet gold, And make what was of late so fair But rustling drift and dripping mould. Yet if, as you have […]
To Robert Louis Stevenson poem – Alfred Austin
I never saw you, never grasped your hand, Nor wrote nor read lines absence loves to trace, Ne’er with you sate in your accustomed place, Nor waited for your coming on sea or land. But this I know, if along unseen strand, Or anywhere in God’s eternal space, You heard my voice, or I […]
To Ireland poem – Alfred Austin
“What ails you, Sister Erin, that your face Is, like your mountains, still bedewed with tears? As though some ancient sorrow or disgrace, Some unforgettable wrong from far-off years, Done to your name or wreaked upon your race, Broods in your heart and shadows all your mind; So that no change of Season, nor […]
To England poem – Alfred Austin
Men deemed thee fallen, did they? fallen like Rome, Coiled into self to foil a Vandal throng: Not wholly shorn of strength, but vainly strong; Weaned from thy fame by a too happy home, Scanning the ridges of thy teeming loam, Counting thy flocks, humming thy harvest song, Callous, because thyself secure, ‘gainst wrong, […]
To Ellen Terry poem – Alfred Austin
Nay, bring forth none but daughters: daughters young, The doubles of yourself; with face as fair, Bearing as candid, gait as debonair, And voice as deeply, musically strung: That the less fortunate age, from this age sprung, In those transmitted gleams of what you were, May hear your laughter, gaze on your despair, And […]
To Beatrice Stuart–Wortley Ætat poem – Alfred Austin
Patter, patter, little feet, Making music quaint and sweet, Up the passage, down the stair; Patter, patter everywhere. Ripple, ripple, little voice; When I hear you, I rejoice. When you cease to crow and coo, Then my heart grows silent too. Frolic, frolic, little form, While the day is young and warm. When the […]
To Arms! poem – Alfred Austin
World! to arms! Do you shrink? What! shrink when the hoofs of the Cossack are crushing The bosom of mother, the tonsure of priest, And the youth of a nation, pain-maddened, is rushing On visible doom, as to tourney or feast? When the savagest hell-hounds that ever existed Are hunting the tender and brave […]
To Arms! (II) poem – Alfred Austin
Now let the cry, “To Arms! To Arms!” Go ringing round the world; And swift a wave-wide Empire swarms Round Battleflag unfurled! Wherever glitters Britain’s might, Or Britain’s banner flies, Leap up mailed myriads with the light Of manhood in their eyes; Calling from farmstead, mart, and strand, “We come! And we! And we! […]
To Alfred Tennyson poem – Alfred Austin
Poet! in other lands, when Spring no more Gleams o’er the grass, nor in the thicket-side Plays at being lost and laughs to be descried, And blooms lie wilted on the orchard floor, Then the sweet birds that from Ægean shore Across Ausonian breakers thither hied, Own April’s music in their breast hath died, […]
“‘Tis because, though in dusky bower” poem – Alfred Austin
‘Tis because, though in dusky bower, With love delighted still thou art; Nor hath the deepening twilight power To lay a curfew on thy heart. Thou lovest; and, loving, dost prolong The sense of sunlight with thy song. Alfred AustinAlfred Austin (1835 – 1913) was an English journalist and a poet who was […]
Time’s Weariness poem – Alfred Austin
Slow Time, that carrieth such a monstrous load From every stage and hostel of the Past, Do you not weary of the endless road, And ask how long Life’s journeying will last? Still growing burden on your patient back, Piled are the medley miseries of mankind, No bourne in sight along the lengthening track, […]
Time’s Defence poem – Alfred Austin
“Why am I deemed an enemy of men Who would beyond Life’s limit life prolong? If they believe that they will live again, How can it be that I have done them wrong? Is it not I who rout the Winter snows, And Spring’s melodious symphonies renew, Bring back the blush unto the budding […]
Through Liberty To Light poem – Alfred Austin
Fixed is my Faith, the lingering dawn despite, That still we move through Liberty to Light. The Human Tragedy. When God out of chaos primeval divided the day from the night, And moved on the face of the waters, ordaining, “Let there be Light!” And commanded the creatures that perish to people wave, wood, […]
Three Sonnets Written In Mid-Channel poem – Alfred Austin
I Now upon English soil I soon shall stand, Homeward from climes that fancy deems more fair; And well I know that there will greet me there No soft foam fawning upon smiling strand, No scent of orange-groves, no zephyrs bland, But Amazonian March, with breast half bare And sleety arrows whistling through the […]
Though All The World poem – Alfred Austin
Though all the world should stand aside, And leave you to your sorrow, And you from none, or near, or wide, A smile or tear could borrow; I still would stand with arms outspread, In love and trust unshaken, To make a nest for that dear head, By all the rest forsaken. Come, let […]
The Wind Speaks poem – Alfred Austin
“In the depth of Night, on the heights of Day, Would you know where I rest or roam? In vain will you search, for I nowhere stay, And the Universe is my home. “When you think to descry on the craggy steep My skirts as I mount and flee From the wrecks I have […]
The White Pall Of Peace poem – Alfred Austin
Over the peaceful veldt, Silently, snowflakes fall! Silently, slow, unfelt, Cover the Past with a pall! Brave brother Boers, let us hie To your and our brothers dead; Over the spot where they lie Tears, yours and ours, be shed! Underneath turf, cross, and stone Combat and discord be husht! Blest be the heroes […]
The Spring-Time, O The Spring–Time poem – Alfred Austin
The Spring-time, O the Spring-time! Who does not know it well? When the little birds begin to build, And the buds begin to swell. When the sun with the clouds plays hide-and-seek, And the lambs are bucking and bleating, And the colour mounts to the maiden’s cheek, And the cuckoo scatters greeting; In the […]
“`The smiling slopes with olive groves bedecked” poem – Alfred Austin
`The smiling slopes with olive groves bedecked, Now darkly green, now, as the breeze did stir, Spectral and white, as though the air were flecked With elfin branches laced with gossamer; And then so faint, the eye could scarce detect Which the gray hillside, which the foliage fair; Until once more it dense and […]
The Silent Muse poem – Alfred Austin
“Why have you silent been so long?” In tones of mild rebuke you ask. Know you not, kindly friend, that Song Is the “Gay Science,” not a task? It is but when it pleaseth God The blackthorn blows, the acorns fall; The Muse ignores a mortal’s nod, And will not come to beck and […]
The Season poem – Alfred Austin
In honest times, when purer manners reigned, And Virtue never save by Vice was pained, The Poet’s pen might flagrant scandals call By manly names, the property of all, And, like the prophets bold of Sacred Writ, Discard the sleight of circumambient wit. Now, so corruptly chaste our ways are grown, E’en words, turned […]
The Reply Of Q. Horatius Flaccus To A Roman “Round-Robin” poem – Alfred Austin
Good friends, you urge my Odes grow trite, And that of worthless station, Of fleeting youth and joy, I write With endless iteration. But say, in mortals, base or great, Have you a change detected? Are they, when victors, less elate, When vanquished, less dejected? Do they no more in mundane mire For golden […]
The Poet And The Muse poem – Alfred Austin
Whither, and whence, and why hast fled? Thou art dumb, my muse; thou art dumb, thou art dead, As a waterless stream, as a leafless tree. What have I done to banish thee? But a moon ago, the whole day long My ears were full of the sound of song; And still through my […]
The Passing Of The Primroses poem – Alfred Austin
Primroses, why do you pass away? Primroses Nay, rather, why should we longer stay? We are not needed, now stooping showers Have sandalled the feet of May with flowers. Surely, surely, ’tis time to go, Now that the splendid bluebells blow, Scattering a bridal peal, to hail June blushing under her hawthorn veil. We […]
The Passing Of The Century poem – Alfred Austin
How shall we comfort the Dying Year? Beg him to linger, or bid him go? The light in his eyes burns dim and low, His hands are clammy, his pulse beats slow, He wanders and mumbles, but doth not hear. The lanes are sodden, the leaf-drifts sere, And the wrack is weaving his shroud […]