John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
Page 841
Sir William Watson. (1858–1935) (continued) |
8132 |
Deemest thou labor Only is earnest? Grave is all beauty, Solemn is joy. |
England my Mother. Part iv. |
8133 |
Empires dissolve and peoples disappear, Song passes not away. |
Lacrymae Musarum. |
8134 |
In this world with starry dome, Floored with gemlike plains and seas, Shall I never feel at home, Never wholly be at ease? |
World-Strangeness. |
8135 |
On from room to room I stray, Yet mine Host can ne’er espy, And I know not to this day, Whether guest or captive I. |
World-Strangeness. |
Francis Thompson. (1859–1907) |
8136 |
I fear to love you, Sweet, because Love’s the ambassador of loss. |
To Olivia. |
8137 |
The hills look over on the South, And Southward dreams the sea; And with the sea-breeze hand in hand, Came innocence and she. |
Daisy. |
8138 |
Little Jesus, wast Thou shy Once, and just so small as I? And what did it feel to be Out of Heaven and just like me? |
Ex Ore Infantum. |
8139 |
I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the midst of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter. |
The Hound of Heaven. |