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Epilogue (from 'hawthorn And Lavender With Other Verses') Epilogue (from "hawthorn And Lavender With Other Verses")

Epilogue (from 'hawthorn And Lavender With Other Verses')
Into a landStorm-wrought, a place of quakes, all thunder-scarred,Helpless, degraded, desolate,Peace, the White Angel, comes.Her eyes are as a mother's. Her good handsAre comforting, and helping; and her voiceFalls on the heart, as, after Winter, SpringFalls on the World, and there is no more pain.And, in her influence, hope returns, and life,And the passion of endeavour: so that, soon,The idle ports are insolent with keels;The stithies roar, and the mills thrumWith energy and achievement; weald and woldExult; the cottage-garden teemsWith innocent hues and odours; boy and girlMate prosperously; there are sweet women to kiss;There are good women to breed.... Poems - Post by : 42583 - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 1593

In Memoriam: Reginae Dilectissimae Victoriae In Memoriam: Reginae Dilectissimae Victoriae

In Memoriam: Reginae Dilectissimae Victoriae
(May 24, 1819--January 22, 1901)Sceptre and orb and crown,High ensigns of a sovranty containingThe beauty and strength and state of half a World,Pass from her, and she fadesInto the old, inviolable peace.IShe had been ours so longShe seemed a piece of ENGLAND: spirit and bloodAnd message ENGLAND'S self,Home-coloured, ENGLAND in look and deed and dream;Like the rich meadows and woods, the serene rivers,And sea-charmed cliffs and beaches, that still bringA rush of tender pride to the heartThat beats in ENGLAND'S airs to ENGLAND'S ends:August, familiar, irremovable,Like the good stars that shineIn the good skies that only ENGLAND knows:So that we held... Poems - Post by : ksalinas - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 2889

Last Post Last Post

Last Post
The day's high work is over and done,And these no more will need the sun:Blow, you bugles of ENGLAND, blow!These are gone whither all must go,Mightily gone from the field they won.So in the workaday wear of battle,Touched to glory with GOD'S own red,Bear we our chosen to their bed.Settle them lovingly where they fell,In that good lap they loved so well;And, their deliveries to the dear LORD said,And the last desperate volleys ranged and sped,Blow, you bugles of ENGLAND, blowOver the camps of her beaten foe--Blow glory and pity to the victor Mother,Sad, O, sad in her sacrificial dead!Labour, and... Poems - Post by : ibc3000 - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 2453

In Memoriam: George Warrington Steevens In Memoriam: George Warrington Steevens

In Memoriam: George Warrington Steevens
London, December 10, 1869.Ladysmith, January 15, 1900.We cheered you forth--brilliant and kind and brave. Under your country's triumphing flag you fell.It floats, true Heart, over no dearer grave-- Brave and brilliant and kind, hail and farewell!p>(The end)William Ernest Henley's poem: In Memoriam: George Warrington Steevens... Poems - Post by : CircleCity - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 4079

In Memoriam: Thomas Edward Brown In Memoriam: Thomas Edward Brown

In Memoriam: Thomas Edward Brown
(Ob. October 30, 1897)He looked half-parson and half-skipper: a quaint,Beautiful blend, with blue eyes good to see,And old-world whiskers. You found him cynic, saint,Salt, humourist, Christian, poet; with a free,Far-glancing, luminous utterance; and a heartLarge as ST. FRANCIS'S: withal a brainStored with experience, letters, fancy, art,And scored with runes of human joy and pain.Till six-and-sixty years he used his gift,His gift unparalleled, of laughter and tears,And left the world a high-piled, golden driftOf verse: to grow more golden with the years, Till the Great Silence fallen upon his ways Break into song, and he that had... Poems - Post by : leonard063083 - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 1724

Epicedia Epicedia

TWO DAYS(February 15--September 28, 1894)To V. G.That day we brought our Beautiful One to lieIn the green peace within your gates, he cameTo give us greeting, boyish and kind and shy,And, stricken as we were, we blessed his name:Yet, like the Creature of Light that had been ours,Soon of the sweet Earth disinherited,He too must join, even with the Year's old flowers,The unanswering generations of the Dead.So stand we friends for you, who stood our friendThrough him that day; for now through him you knowThat though where love was, love is till the end,Love, turned of death to longing, like a... Poems - Post by : SeldomSeen - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 3857

Three Prologues Three Prologues

Three Prologues
I. BEAU AUSTINBy W. E. Henley and R. L. Stevenson,Haymarket Theatre, November 3, 1890.Spoken by Mr. TREE in the character of Beau Austin.'To all and singular,' as DRYDEN says,We bring a fancy of those Georgian days,Whose style still breathed a faint and fine perfumeOf old-world courtliness and old-world bloom:When speech was elegant and talk was fit,For slang had not been canonised as wit;When manners reigned, when breeding had the wall,And Women--yes!--were ladies first of all;When Grace was conscious of its gracefulness,And man--though Man!--was not ashamed to dress.A brave formality, a measured easeWere his--and hers--whose effort was to please.And to excel in... Poems - Post by : Jigger - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 3178

Barmaid Barmaid

Though, if you ask her name, she says ELISE,Being plain ELIZABETH, e'en let it pass,And own that, if her aspirates take their ease,She ever makes a point, in washing glass,Handling the engine, turning taps for tots,And countering change, and scorning what men say,Of posing as a dove among the pots,Nor often gives her dignity away.Her head's a work of art, and, if her eyesBe tired and ignorant, she has a waist;Cheaply the Mode she shadows; and she triesFrom penny novels to amend her taste; And, having mopped the zinc for certain years, And faced the gas, she... Poems - Post by : dalemat - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 1469

Flower-girl Flower-girl

There's never a delicate nurseling of the yearBut our huge LONDON hails it, and delightsTo wear it on her breast or at her ear,Her days to colour and make sweet her nights.Crocus and daffodil and violet,Pink, primrose, valley-lily, clove-carnation,Red rose and white rose, wall-flower, mignonette,The daisies all--these be her recreation,Her gaudies these! And forth from DRURY LANE,Trapesing in any of her whirl of weathers,Her flower-girls foot it, honest and hoarse and vain,All boot and little shawl and wilted feathers: Of populous corners right advantage taking, And they squat, endlessly posy-making.(The end)William Ernest Henley's poem: Flower-Girl... Poems - Post by : lauraw - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 2511

Drum-major Drum-major

Who says Drum-Major says a man of mould,Shaking the meek earth with tremendous tread,And pacing still, a triumph to behold,Of his own spine at least two yards ahead!Attorney, grocer, surgeon, broker, duke--His calling may be anything, who comesInto a room, his presence a rebukeTo the dejected, as the pipes and drumsInspired his port!--who mounts his office stairsAs though he led great armies to the fight!His bulk itself's pure genius, and he wearsHis avoirdupois with so much fire and spright That, though the creature stands but five feet five, You take him for the tallest He alive.(The end)William... Poems - Post by : mjaydee - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 3745

News-boy News-boy

Take any station, pavement, circus, corner,Where men their styles of print may call or choose,And there--ten times more on it than JACK HORNER--There shall you find him swathed in sheets of news.Nothing can stay the placing of his wares--Not bus, nor cab, nor dray! The very Slop,That imp of power, is powerless! Ever he dares,And, daring, lands his public neck and crop.Even the many-tortured London ear,The much-enduring, loathes his Speeshul yell,His shriek of Winnur! But his dart and leerAnd poise are irresistible. PALL MALL Joys in him, and MILE END; for his vocation... Poems - Post by : jamescm.com - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 2948

Mounted Police Mounted Police

Mounted Police
Army Reserve; a worshipper of BOBS,With whom he stripped the smock from CANDAHAR;Neat as his mount, that neatest among cobs;Whenever pageants pass, or meetings are,He moves conspicuous, vigilant, severe,With his Light Cavalry hand and seat and look,A living type of Order, in whose sphereIs room for neither Hooligan nor Hook.For in his shadow soe'er he ride,Paces, all eye and hardihood and grip,The dreaded Crusher, might in his every strideAnd right materialized girt at his hip; And they, that shake to see these twain go by, Feel that the Tec, that plain-clothes Terror, is nigh.(The end)William Ernest Henley's... Poems - Post by : lcpl10 - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 2473

Bluecoat Boy Bluecoat Boy

Bluecoat Boy
So went our boys when EDWARD SIXTH, the King,Chartered CHRIST'S HOSPITAL, and died. And soFull fifteen generations in a stringOf heirs to his bequest have had to go.Thus CAMDEN showed, and BARNES, and STILLING-FLEET,And RICHARDSON, that bade our LOVELACE be;The little ELIA thus in NEWGATE STREET;Thus to his GENEVIEVE young S. T. C.With thousands else that, wandering up and down,Quaint, privileged, liked and reputed well,Made the great School a part of LONDON TOWNPatent as PAUL'S and vital as BOW BELL: The old School nearing exile, day by day, To certain clay-lands somewhere HORSHAM way.(The end)William Ernest... Poems - Post by : JasonJCox11 - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 2701

'lady' 'lady'

Time, the old humourist, has a trick to-dayOf moving landmarks and of levelling down,Till into Town the Suburbs edge their way,And in the Suburbs you may scent the Town.With MOUNT ST. thus approaching MUSWELL HILL,And CLAPHAM COMMON marching with the MILE,You get a HAMMERSMITH that fills the bill,A HAMPSTEAD with a serious sense of style.So this fair creature, pictured in THE ROW,As one of that 'gay adulterous world,' {1} whose roundIs by the SERPENTINE, as well would show,And might, I deem, as readily be found On STREATHAM'S HILL, or WIMBLEDON'S, or where Brixtonian kitchens lard the late-dining... Poems - Post by : mattb - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 1578

'liza 'liza

'LIZA'S old man's perhaps a little shady,'LIZA'S old woman's prone to booze and cringe;But 'LIZA deems herself a perfect lady,And proves it in her feathers and her fringe.For 'LIZA has a bloke her heart to cheer,With pearlies and a barrer and a jack,So all the vegetables of the yearAre duly represented on her back.Her boots are sacrifices to her hats,Which knock you speechless--like a load of bricks!Her summer velvets dazzle WANSTEAD FLATS,And cost, at times, a good eighteen-and-six. Withal, outside the gay and giddy whirl, 'LIZA'S a stupid, straight, hard-working girl.(The end)William Ernest Henley's poem: 'liza... Poems - Post by : mmoneys - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 2625

Sandwich-man Sandwich-man

An ill March noon; the flagstones gray with dust;An all-round east wind volleying straws and grit;ST. MARTIN'S STEPS every venomous gustLingers to buffet, or sneap, the passing cit;And in the gutter, squelching a rotten boot,Draped in a wrap that, modish ten-year syne,Partners, obscene with sweat and grease and soot,A horrible hat, that once was just as fine;The drunkard's mouth a-wash for something drinkable,The drunkard's eye alert for casual toppers,The drunkard's neck stooped to a lot scarce thinkable,A living, crawling blazoning of Hot-Coppers, He trails his mildews towards a Kingdom-Come Compact of sausage-and-mash and two-o'-rum!(The end)William Ernest... Poems - Post by : howdo-i - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 2232

Beef-eater Beef-eater

His beat lies knee-high through a dust of story--A dust of terror and torture, grief and crime;Ghosts that are ENGLAND'S wonder, and shame, and gloryThrong where he walks, an antic of old time;A sense of long immedicable tearsWere ever with him, could his ears but heed;The stern Hic Jacets of our bloodiest yearsAre for his reading, had he eyes to read,But here CROOKBACK raged, and CRANMER trimmed,And MORE and STRAFFORD faced the axe's proving,He shows that Crown the desperate Colonel nimmed,Or simply keeps the Country Cousin moving, Or stays such Cockney pencillers as would shame The... Poems - Post by : PharmacyGirl - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 3763

Hawker Hawker

Far out of bounds he's figured--in a raceOf West-End traffic pitching to his loss.But if you'd see him in his proper place,Making the browns for bub and grub and doss,Go East among the merchants and their men,And where the press is noisiest, and the tidesOf trade run highest and widest, there and thenYou shall behold him, edging with equal stridesAlong the kerb; hawking in either handSome artful nothing made of twine and tin,Cardboard and foil and bits of rubber band:Some penn'orth of wit-in-fact that, with a grin, The careful City marvels at, and buys For nurselings in... Poems - Post by : webdude - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 1586

Life-guardsman Life-guardsman

Joy of the Milliner, Envy of the Line,Star of the Parks, jack-booted, sworded, helmed,He sits between his holsters, solid of spine;Nor, as it seems, though WESTMINSTER were whelmed,With the great globe, in earthquake and eclipse,Would he and his charger cease from mounting guard,This Private in the Blues, nor would his lipsMove, though his gorge with throttled oaths were charred!He wears his inches weightily, as he wearsHis old-world armours; and with his port and pride,His sturdy graces and enormous airs,He towers, in speech his Colonel countrified, A triumph, waxing statelier year by year, Of British blood, and bone,... Poems - Post by : ratman - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 3539

Bus-driver Bus-driver

(To S. S. P.)He's called The General from the brazen craftAnd dash with which he sneaks a bit of roadAnd all its fares; challenged, or chafed, or chaffed,Back-answers of the newest he'll explode;He reins his horses with an air; he treatsWith scoffing calm whatever powers there be;He gets it straight, puts a bit on, and meetsHis losses with both lip and pounds s. d.;He arrogates a special taste in short;Is loftily grateful for a flagrant smoke;At all the smarter housemaids winks his court,And taps them for half-crowns; being stoney-broke, Lives lustily; is ever on the make; And... Poems - Post by : madninja - Date : November 2011 - Author : William Ernest Henley - Read : 1974