Mock on, Mock on, Voltaire, Rousseau, Mock on, Mock on! tis all in vain! You throw the san against the wind And the wind blows it back again And every sand becomes a Gem Reflected in the beams divine Blown back they blind the mocking Eye But still in Israel's paths they shine The Atoms … Continue reading “Mock On, Mock On, Voltaire, Rousseau”
Poetry
“Prologue” (For the Opening of Drury Lane Theatre, 1747)
When Learning's triumph o'er her barbarous foes First reared the stage, immortal Shakespeare rose; Each change of many-colored life he drew, Exhausted worlds, and then imagined new: Existence saw him spurn her bounded reign, And panting Time toiled after him in vain. His powerful strokes presiding Truth impressed, And unresisted Passion stormed the breast. Then … Continue reading “Prologue” (For the Opening of Drury Lane Theatre, 1747)
“Hymn”
At morn - at noon - at twilight dim- Maria! thou hast heary my hymn! In joy and woe - in good and ill - Mother of God, be with me still! When the Hours flew brightly by, And not a cloud obscured the sky, My soul, lest it should truant be, Thy grace did … Continue reading “Hymn”
“To Lucasta, Going to the Wars”
Tell me not, (sweet,) I am unkind, That from the nunnerie Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True: a new Mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger fair embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such, As … Continue reading “To Lucasta, Going to the Wars”
“When Earth’s Last Picture is Painted”
When Earth's last picture is painted And the tubes are twisted and dried When the oldest colours have faded And the youngest critic has died. We shall rest, and faith we will need it, Lie down for an aeon or two 'Till the Master of all good workmen Shall put us to work anew And … Continue reading “When Earth’s Last Picture is Painted”
Norman and Saxon
“MY son,” said the Norman Baron, “I am dying, and you will be heir To all the broad acres in England that William gave me for my share When we conquered the Saxon at Hastings, and a nice little handful it is. But before you go over to rule it I want you to understand … Continue reading Norman and Saxon
In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place, and in the sky, The larks, still bravely singing, fly, Scarce heard amid the guns below. We are the dead; short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie In … Continue reading In Flanders Fields
“Say Not the Struggle Nought Availeth”
Say not the struggle nought availeth, The labor and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth, And as things have been they remain. If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars; It may be, in yon smoke concealed, Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers, And, but for you, possess the field. … Continue reading “Say Not the Struggle Nought Availeth”
Serpent's Den 