A Household Book of English Poetry: Selected and Arranged with Notes
General
A Household Book of English Poetry: Selected and Arranged with Notes
American poetry; English poetry
Too true it is, my time of power was spent
In idly watering weeds of casual growth,
That wasted energy to desperate sloth
Declined, and fond self-seeking discontent;
That the huge debt for all that Nature lent 5
I sought to cancel, and was nothing loth
To deem myself an outlaw, severed both
From duty and from hope,--yea, blindly sent
Without an errand, where I would to stray:--
Too true it is, that, knowing now my state, 10
I weakly mourn the sin I ought to hate,
Nor love the law I yet would fain obey:
But true it is, above all law and fate
Is Faith, abiding the appointed day.
_Hartley Coleridge._
CXCVI
_TO A LOFTY BEAUTY, FROM HER POOR KINSMAN._
Fair maid, had I not heard thy baby cries,
Nor seen thy girlish, sweet vicissitude,
Thy mazy motions, striving to elude,
Yet wooing still a parents watchful eyes,
Thy humours, many as the opal’s dyes, 5
And lovely all;--methinks thy scornful mood,
And bearing high of stately womanhood,--
Thy brow, where Beauty sits to tyrannize
O’er humble love, had made me sadly fear thee;
For never sure was seen a royal bride, 10
Whose gentleness gave grace to so much pride--
My very thoughts would tremble to be near thee:
But when I see thee at thy father’s side,
Old times unqueen thee, and old loves endear thee.
_Hartley Coleridge._
CXCVII
_THE GRASSHOPPER AND THE CRICKET._
Green little vaulter on the sunny grass,
Catching your heart up at the feel of June,
Sole voice that’s heard amidst the lazy noon,
When ev’n the bees lag at the summoning brass;
And you, warm little housekeeper, who class 5
With those who think the candles come too soon,
Loving the fire, and with your tricksome tune
Nick the glad silent moments as they pass;
O sweet and tiny cousins, that belong,
One to the fields, the other to the hearth, 10
Both have your sunshine; both, though small, are strong
At your clear hearts, and both seem given to earth
To sing in thoughtful ears this natural song,
In doors and out, summer and winter, mirth.
_Leigh Hunt._
CXCVIII
_TO A BIRD THAT HAUNTED THE WATERS OF LAKEN IN THE WINTER._
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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