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In The Valley Of The Shadow In The Valley Of The Shadow

In The Valley Of The Shadow
What can death render us commensurate With what it takes away; the voice of birds On sweet spring mornings, and the face of spring; And lush long grass around the browsing herds; And shadows on the distant hills the flying rain-clouds fling? What is there brighter in the world to come Than white-winged sea-gulls, flashing in the sun Above the blue Atlantic; what more free, Yet what more stable, than those white wings, strung All motionless, against a wind that whips the racing sea? Yea, and if these things yet may... Poems - Post by : ferfer - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 3698

A Ballad Of King Richard A Ballad Of King Richard

A Ballad Of King Richard
1. The Banner King Richard wiped the wine from his lips And laughed full scornfully; "Oh, I care not a bit for King Philip's wit, Nor the honour of France," quoth he; "And I care not a straw for Austria's wrath, And little of Templars reck; If I lead not this host, by the Holy Ghost, May my head be struck from my neck." King Richard drank, and swore in his cups --And a mighty man was he-- "Let the... Poems - Post by : freemanSmith - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 3024

In Arcadia In Arcadia

In Arcadia
See how Pan through the forest goes, The forest of Arcadia, Giving a sidelong leer at the rose, Trampling the daisies with hairy toes, And wrinkling his ugly gnarled old nose, In the forest of Arcadia. Evil and ugly, Pan is bored, In the forest of Arcadia; Tired of hours with honey stored, What diversion can it afford The whole green forest of which he's lord, The forest of Arcadia? Till suddenly, the glimpse of a face In... Poems - Post by : SpamChef - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 4040

A Courtly Madrigal A Courtly Madrigal

A Courtly Madrigal
Between the eyebrow and the eye Such uncounted beauties lie, Plain it is 'tis Cupid's pleasaunce only. There he makes his court and seat, There lets all his graces meet, Leaves a loveless world, bereft and lonely. Oh, fair straight brows that brood above The eyelid, as the nesting dove Broods upon her treasured young; In rosy flesh the veins of blue Do softly, dimly glimmer through, To lose themselves the eyelashes among. Such eyelashes! More darkly sweet Than where the serried treetops meet Above the... Poems - Post by : 5star - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 2190

Chrysanthemums Chrysanthemums

Oh, what a dainty negligence you show Outspreading all your petals' coquetry, As careless of restraint as poetry, Although, like poetry, you surely know That by the laws of beauty you must grow. There is a pure and virgin fantasy In your curled petals, white as driven snow, And wayward as the unbound locks that blow Around a maiden's head, when, mad with glee, With outstretched arms she dances by the sea. Yet in your glad abandon still you show The wildest beauty sorrow-touched must be, To give it... Poems - Post by : ozepro - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 2225

The Ballad Of A Sea-nymph The Ballad Of A Sea-nymph

The Ballad Of A Sea-nymph
Where the water meets the sands All alone sat she, Wrung her hair with chilly hands That glimmered mistily. Phosphorescent were the drips From her hair she wrung, And like moonlight on her lips Were the words she sung. White she was, as white as foam 'Neath a moonlit sky, And the treasures of her home On her brow did lie. There he found her, he, a man, Wandering by the sea, And... Poems - Post by : dp1795 - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 2838

'what If The Rose Should Bloom' "what If The Rose Should Bloom"

'what If The Rose Should Bloom'
What if the rose should bloom, And the sunset deepen and fade, If we are penned in the gloom By close-barred shutters made? What of the birds and the sun, And the moon-rise behind the trees, To the eyes and ears of one Who neither hears nor sees? What of the world of love, Its fragrance, and light, and bloom, To the soul that cannot move Out of a loveless room? Were it better the rose were... Poems - Post by : Rx2_Central - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 1329

A Villa On The Bay Of Naples A Villa On The Bay Of Naples

A Villa On The Bay Of Naples
The crescent's single line of white Above the pointed cypress tree, Was all there was of any light Upon the earth and on the sea; (Black was the bay of Naples.) "And ah," she said, "why have you come Unbidden on my balcony, This midnight hour, close and dumb; What is it you would have of me, Here by the bay of Naples?" "Now having knit, untie the knot," Said he; "you drew me from afar, Or having willed or willed it not, Your face shone on me... Poems - Post by : denise - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 1855

Wisdom And Youth Wisdom And Youth

Wisdom And Youth
In the depths of the forest Merlin dreamed; The shuttle of noon wove light and shade Over the moss and around the trees, And a network among the branches made. He sat with his back against a tree, Grey as himself, and gnarled, and old; The lichen was grey as the ragged beard Over his friezen mantle's fold. Still he sat, like an ancient stone That time has forgotten to wear away-- While streamed the forest's green and gold, Like banners on a windy day. And Merlin watched, as... Poems - Post by : Davemo - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 3417

Tapestry Tapestry

God the omnipotent wearied of space, And the void of endless blue, And the light of eternity in His face, And eternity's emptiness round the place That the presence of Godhead knew. So He wove Him a piece of tapestry O'er all infinity drawn, And out of His brain and its subtlety Were the suns that stand, and the comets that flee, And the paths of the planets born. No plan too great, no design too small, For the fingers... Poems - Post by : katcook - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 4023

Consolation Consolation

"Is there a pain to match my pain In all this world of woe; When to and fro on a barren earth My weary footsteps go? When no day's sun shall give me mirth And no stars blessed be; Because my heart goes hungry and lone For one who turns from me?" Hear what the voice of all Sorrows saith From out the ages dim: "As melt the snows your passion goes, And as dew it vanisheth. Take up, take up your burden of woe, Unblenching on your... Poems - Post by : creme - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 2645

To The Leaders Of Both Parties To The Leaders Of Both Parties

To The Leaders Of Both Parties
January 1910 "A people's voice, we are a people yet." --TENNYSON'S Ode on Death of the Duke of Wellington. Think on your birthright, England! On that voice Which sounded first the ringing clarion note Of freedom, and the ears of mankind smote With that brave speech, whose hearing does rejoice The angels (in his starry sphere remote Each sitting). Think upon your past, my land; The heart to wish, the will to dare, the hand To do the right, though round the senses float... Poems - Post by : teknon - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 3742

To Daniel Manin To Daniel Manin

To Daniel Manin
If that most noble soul, which, here on earth, Was known as Manin, yet have consciousness Of what is, and what is not, being not less Than here he was, in courage and in worth, Seeing the world whereon we sweat and strive; Shall he not know his Italy, and bless, And in his own heart praise the steadfastness That held him to his purpose when alive? Shall he not have reward for all his pain, Who, dying with his incompleted aim, Saw failure only, and the bitter toll Of... Poems - Post by : johnblazed - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 1815

To April To April

To April
I 'Tis not alone the loveliness of spring That makes spring lovely; there's a sense behind Of wonders, deeper than the eye can find In daffodils, or swallows on the wing; A subtler pleasure than the sense can bind When on the dusty roads the rain-drops sing As March turns April, and the hours bring Songs to deaf ears, and beauty to the blind. April is secret nature's treasure room, Which she unlocks to us who love her well In magic moments; then indeed we see The wonder of... Poems - Post by : Antonio85 - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 2553

February February

Can there be aught to touch the sleeping dead To consciousness; can love still call to love Across that dark abyss; can feeling move Dead heart and brain, that once with blood were fed, To stir and quicken in their narrow bed, For that which yet is living? We believe Such force has love, that it may still retrieve Its heart's Eurydice among the dead. I shall awake, then, shall awake my soul-- Not when full summer beautifies the earth, But with the first sweet stirring of the sap,... Poems - Post by : Arun_Pal_Singh - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 1575

A January Morning A January Morning

A January Morning
How strangely shone the crescent of the moon In the grey twilight dawning o'er the sea; A star, that seemed of stars a memory, (As faint as lilies on a sultry noon) Ebbed in the chilly waxing of the morn; The sea was rest in motion; hardly stirred Its waves upon the beach; there was no bird To break its undersong of silence born. The misty shadows lay upon the trees, Whose colour was but echo of the tone That earth and sky were wrapped in, harmonies Of wedded hue... Poems - Post by : MarkoJevtic - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 3842

To A Robin In December To A Robin In December

To A Robin In December
In Paradise there is no sweeter song Than that thin music that the robin makes On short December afternoons, and takes The winter woods, with utterance frail, yet strong; Till all the barren fields, and ruined brakes, The flowerless gardens, and the hedges bare Dream of the spring, and all the rainy air Seems soft and mellow as the summer lakes. More precious than the treasures of the East, (Guarded by silver-footed antelope,) Or all the nightingales that haunt the grove Of Persian gardens; silver pipe of hope! That... Poems - Post by : gjdepol71 - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 1580

November November

There is a gleam of sunshine on the earth After so many weary days of rain, A break of yellowing clouds, which offers plain The sun's veiled disc (a very shadow-birth, But still the sun, with sun's November worth); The sky is of a Turner lived again, Such colours through the misty greyness gain They almost seem to touch with spring the earth. How should we not be glad, when this one day Out of the saddest of all months, appears Suddenly beautiful? A single ray Of sunlight strikes... Poems - Post by : Mark624 - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 3602

To Andrew Chatto To Andrew Chatto

To Andrew Chatto
It is your thin, ungracious wine that runs Within a year of bottling, to your tongue, The noblest wine is somewhat harsh when young; Lay it aside for many moons and suns, Send it, if so you will, its "wander-year," A-battling with the ocean's storm and strife, Then open it, when ripe are wine and life, And see what mellow sunshine you have there. Here is another year to crown that head So full of years and honour, dear old friend, Whose wisdom makes a constant, quiet balm For tricks... Poems - Post by : niece - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 3910

To J. F. W. To J. F. W.

To J. F. W.
We've touched the borderland of death and life And come back to the primroses again, And see with different eyes the slanting rain Buffet the larches in a short-lived strife; With different eyes, for we have looked on death, And know what life is for; we felt the hand Of that sad Lady of the other Land, And now, with her released, we draw our breath. Life is for gladness, not for mulish days Between the galling shafts of commonplace. See, now, the willow tassels all ablaze Against the background... Poems - Post by : adtwellness - Date : November 2011 - Author : John Presland - Read : 3905