Festus – XLV (Philip James Bailey Poems)
'Twas held of old by some heresiarch sage,Whose nobler name time bruits not overmuch,That evil and good, twin powers, as ...
'Twas held of old by some heresiarch sage,Whose nobler name time bruits not overmuch,That evil and good, twin powers, as ...
An Exhortation to all that are out of Christ; in order to their closing the match with him: containing also ...
SCENE 1.-PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. THE LORD AND THE HOST OF HEAVEN. ENTER THREE ARCHANGELS.RAPHAEL:The sun makes music as of oldAmid ...
The eve now came; and shadows cowled the way Like somber palmers, who have kneeled to pray Beside a wayside shrine, and ...
1876Sunning ourselves in October on a dayBalmy as spring, though the year was in decay,I lading my pipe, she stirring ...
CANTO I.Fanatics have their dreams, wherewith they weaveA paradise for a sect; the savage, too,From forth the loftiest fashion of ...
PRELUDEALONG the roadside, like the flowers of goldThat tawny Incas for their gardens wrought,Heavy with sunshine droops the golden-rod,And the ...
Such was the Child-World of the long-ago--The little world these children used to know:--Johnty, the oldest, and the best, perhaps,Of ...
IA heap of bare and splintery cragsTumbled about by lightning and frost,With rifts and chasms and storm-bleached jags,That wait and ...
"Build me straight, O worthy Master! Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel, That shall laugh at all disaster, And with wave and whirlwind ...
IBeauty, whose face and mystery we seek,Forever longing and forever foiled,-Whose praise the voices of our art would speak,And in ...
Down the dim West slow fails the stricken sun,And from his hot face fades the crimson flushVeiled in death's herald-shadows ...
_In Commemoration of the Founding of the Massachusetts Bay Colony in the Year 1623._ I. They who maintained their rights, Through storm and stress, And ...
A Forest-Ranger's Story.JUST nineteen long years, Jack, have passed o'er my shouldersSince close to this spot we lay waiting the ...
By chapel bare, with walls sea-beatThe lichened urns in wilds are lostAbout a carved memorial stoneThat shows, decayed and coral-mossed,A ...
Argument.Hail to thee, Sound!-The power of Euterpe in all the scenes of life-in religion; in works of charity; in soothing ...
NO master sage, nor orator I know,Who can success, like gentle Cupid show;His ways and arguments are pleasing smiles,Engaging looks, ...
_With hearts responsive And enfranchised eyes, We thank Thee, Lord,--_For all things beautiful, and good, and true;For things that seemed not good ...
Ill fares it with the man whose lips are setTo bitter themes and words that spite the gods;For, seeing how ...
Ovid's TristiaFreely RenderedGo, little book, make haste away,Go to the joyful victory seat.I go not with you, I must stay,For ...
. IN THE BACKS. As I was strolling lonely in the Backs, I met a woman whom I did not like. I did not like the way the woman walked: Loose-hipped, big-boned, disjointed, angular. If her anatomy comprised a waist, I did not notice it: she had a face With eyes and lips adjusted thereunto, But round her mouth no pleasing shadows stirred, Nor did her eyes invite a second glance. Her dress was absolutely colourless, Devoid of taste or shape or character; Her boots were rather old, and rather large, And rather shabby, not precisely matched. Her hair was very far from beautiful And not abundant: she had such a hat As neither merits nor expects remark. She was not clever, I am very sure, Nor witty nor amusing: well-informed She may have been, and kind, perhaps, of heart; But gossip was writ plain upon her face. And so she stalked her dull unthinking way; Or, if she thought of anything, it was That such a one had got a second class, Or Mrs So-and-So a second child. I did not want to see that girl again: I did not like her: and I should not mind If she were done away with, killed, or ploughed. She did not seem to serve a useful end: And certainly she was not beautiful.. ON THE KING'S PARADE. As I was waiting for the tardy tram, I met what purported to be a man. What seemed to pass for its material frame, The semblance of a suit of clothes had on, Fit emblem of the grand sartorial art And worthy of a more sublime abode. Its coat and waistcoat were of weird design Adapted to the fashion's latest whim. I think it wore an Athenæum tie. White flannels draped its too ethereal limbs And in its vacant eye there glared a glass. In vain for this poor derelict of flesh, Void of the spirit it was built to house, Have classic poets tuned their deathless lyre, Astute historians fingered mouldering sheets And reared a palace of sententious truth. In vain has y been added unto x, In vain the mighty decimal unrolled, Which strives indefinitely to be π In vain the palpitating frog has groaned Beneath the licensed knife: in vain for this The surreptitious corpse been disinterred And forced, amid the disinfectant fumes, To yield its secrets to philosophy. In vain the stress and storm of politics Beat round this empty head: in vain the priest Pronounces loud anathemas: the fool In vain remarks upon the fact that God Is missing in the world of his belief. Vain are the problems whether space, or time, Or force, or matter can be said to be: Vain are the mysteries of Melchisedec, And vain Methuselah's unusual years. It had a landlady I make no doubt; A friend or two as vacant as itself; A kitchen-bill; a thousand cigarettes; A dog which knew it for the fool it was. Perhaps it was a member of the Union, Who votes as often as he does not speak, And "recommends" as wildly as he spells. Its income was as much beyond its merits As less than its inane expenditure. Its conversation stood to common sense As stands the Sporting Times (its favourite print) To wit or humour. It was seldom drunk, But seldom sober when it went to bed. The mean contents of these superior clothes Were they but duly trained by careful hands, And castigated with remorseless zeal, Endowed with purpose, gifted with a mind, And taught to work, or play, or talk, or laugh, Might possibly aspire—I do not know— To pass, in time, for what they dare to scorn, An ordinary undergraduate. What did this thing crawling 'twixt heaven and earth, Amid the network of our grimy streets? What end was it intended to subserve, What lowly mission fashioned to neglect? It did not seem to wish for a degree, And what its object was I do not know, Unless it was to catch the tardy tram. (James Kenneth Stephen)
INTRODUCTIONThe theme is ancient as the hills, With all their prehistoric glory;But yet of Corney and his friend, We've often longed to tell ...
Clearing in the forest,In the wild Kentucky forest,And the stars, wintry stars strewn above!O Night that is the starriestSince Earth ...
I.SEE where the man wakes late from his dreaming,Late in the night from the sleep that has been;See where regret ...
An Ode to be read on the laying of the foundationstone of the new Oglethorpe University,January, 1915, at Atlanta,GeorgiaIAS when ...
KLEINER! in whose quick pulses wildly beat The youth's ambition, and the lyrist's heat, Whose questing spirit scorns our lowly flights, And dares ...
On the storm-cloven Cape The bitter waves roll, With the bergs of the Pole,And the darks and the damps of the Northern ...
I.PLACE. — A small alcove with dark curtains.The class consists of one member.SUBJECT. — Thomson's Mirror Galvanometer. The lamp-light falls on ...
Victory! cry of all cries after battle,Victory! only cry worthy of breath,Lifting the soul up and thrilling the heart strings,Shaking ...
IN THE MANNER OF SWIFTLONG had I sought in vain to findA likeness for the scribbling kind;The modern scribbling kind, ...
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