Old-world Idylls and Other Verses

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K. Paul, Trench, 1889 - 252 psl.
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Populiarios ištraukos

196 psl. - Love comes back to his vacant dwelling — The old, old Love that we knew of yore ! We see him stand by the open door, With his great eyes sad, and his bosom swelling.
217 psl. - KING PHILIP had vaunted his claims • He had sworn for a year he would sack us With an army of heathenish names He was coming to fagot and stack us ; Like the thieves of the sea he would track us, And shatter our ships on the main ; But we had bold Neptune to back us, — And where are the galleons of Spain...
12 psl. - meditating " rose Beyond a sunny summer doze ; He never troubled his repose With fruitless prying ; But held, as law for high and low, What God withholds no man can know And smiled away inquiry so, Without replying. We read — alas, how much we read ! — The jumbled strifes of creed and creed With endless controversies feed Our groaning tables ; His books — and they sufficed him — were Cotton's " Montaigne," " The Grave " of Blair, A " Walton " — much the worse for wear, And "^sop's Fables.
6 psl. - My Dear, I don't think that I thought of much Before we knew each other, I and you ; And now, why, John, your least, least Finger-touch Gives me enough to think a Summer through. See, for I send you something ! There...
90 psl. - Then read him — do ; And I'll read mine in answer." I read. " My Plato (Plato, too, — That wisdom thus should harden !) Declares ' blue eyes look doubly blue Beneath a Dolly Varden.
216 psl. - ENVOY Where are the secrets it knew? Weavings of plot and of plan? — But where is the Pompadour, too? This was the Pompadour's Fan!
10 psl. - And watch, about the fish tank's brim, The swallows darting. He liked the well-wheel's creaking tongue, — He liked the thrush that stopped and sung,He liked the drone of flies among His netted peaches ; He liked to watch the sunlight fall Athwart his ivied orchard wall ; Or pause to catch the cuckoo's call Beyond the beeches. His were the times of Paint and Patch, And yet no Ranelagh could match The sober doves that round his thatch Spread tails and sidled ; He liked their ruffling, puffed content,...
217 psl. - His carackes were christened of dames To the kirtles whereof he would tack us; With his saints and his gilded stern-frames, He had thought like an egg-shell to crack us; Now Howard may get to his Flaccus, And Drake to his Devon again, And Hawkins bowl rubbers to Bacchus, — For where are the galleons of Spain ? Let his Majesty hang to St.
221 psl. - There is place and enough for the pains of prose; But whenever the May-blood stirs and glows. And the young year draws to the "golden prime" And Sir Romeo sticks in his ear a rose, — Then hey! — for the ripple of laughing rhyme! In a theme where the thoughts have a pedant-strut, In a changing quarrel of "Ayes
6 psl. - Dresden world, — Beaux, beauties, prayers, and poses, — Bonzes with squat legs undercurled, And great jars filled with roses. Ah, heart that wrote ! Ah, lips that kissed ! You had no thought or presage Into what keeping you dismissed Your simple old-world message ! A reverent one. Though we to-day Distrust beliefs and powers, The artless, ageless things you say Are fresh as May's own flowers, Starring some pure primeval spring, Ere Gold had grown despotic...

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