Traditional matter must be glorified, since it would be easier to listen to the re-creation of familiar stories than to quite new and unexpected things; the listeners, we must remember, needed poetry chiefly as the re-creation of tired hours.
quote by Lascelles Abercrombie
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
It seems difficult, sometimes, to believe that there was a time when sentiments now become habitual, sentiments that imply not only the original imperative of conduct, but the original metaphysic of living, were by no means altogether habitual.
quote by Lascelles Abercrombie
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Hope and Despair
Said God, 'You sisters, ere ye go
Down among men, my work to do,
I will on each a badge bestow:
Hope I love best, and gold for her,
Yet a silver glory for Despair,
For she is my angel too.'
Then like a queen, Despair
Put on the stars to wear.
But Hope took ears of corn, and round
Her temples in a wreath them bound.--
Which think ye lookt the more fair?
poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Margaret's Song
Too soothe and mild your lowland airs
for one whose hope is gone:
I'm think of the little tarn,
Brown, very lone.
Would now the tall swift mists could lay
their wet grasp on my hair,
and the great natures of the hills
round me friendly were.
In vain! - for taking hills your plains
have spoilt my soul I think,
But would my feet were going down
Towards the brown tarn's brink.
poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Roses Can Wound
Roses can wound,
But not from having thorns they do most harm;
Often the night gives, starry-sheen or moon'd,
Deep in the soul alarm.
And it hath been deep within my heart like fear,
Girl, when you are near.
The mist of sense,
Wherein the soul goes shielded, can divide,
And she must cringe and be ashamed, and wince,
Not in appearance hide
Of rose or girl from the blazing mastery
Of bared Eternity.
poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Epitaph
ir, you shall notice me: I am the Man;
I am Good Fortune: I am satisfied.
All I desired, more than I could desire,
I have: everything has gone right with me.
Life was a hiding-place that played me false;
I croucht ashamed, and still was seen and scorned:
But now I am not seen. I was a fool,
And now I know what wisdom dare not know:
For I know Nothing. I was a slave, and now
I have ungoverned freedom and the wealth
That cannot be conceived: for I have Nothing.
I lookt for beauty and I longed for rest,
And now I have perfection: nay, I am
perfection: I am nothing, I am dead.
poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Stream’s Song
Make way, make way,
You thwarting stones;
Room for my play,
Serious ones.
Do you not fear,
O rocks and boulders,
To feel my laughter
On your broad shoulders?
So you not know
My joy at length
Will all wear out
Your solemn strength?
You will not for ever
Cumber my play:
With joy and son
I clear my way.
[...] Read more
poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
From "Vashti"
WHAT thing shall be held up to woman's beauty?
Where are the bounds of it? Yea, what is all
The world, but an awning scaffolded amid
The waste perilous Eternity, to lodge
This Heaven-wander'd princess, woman's beauty?
The East and West kneel down to thee, the North
And South; and all for thee their shoulders bear
The load of fourfold space. As yellow morn
Runs on the slippery waves of the spread sea,
Thy feet are on the griefs and joys of men
That sheen to be thy causey. Out of tears
Indeed, and blitheness, murder and lust and love,
Whatever has been passionate in clay,
Thy flesh was tempered. Behold in thy body
The yearnings of all men measured and told,
Insatiate endless agonies of desire
Given thy flesh, the meaning of thy shape!
What beauty is there, but thou makest it?
How is earth good to look on, woods and fields,
The season's garden, and the courageous hills,
[...] Read more
poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Song from Judith 3
BALKIS was in her marble town,
And shadow over the world came down.
Whiteness of walls, towers and piers,
That all day dazzled eyes to tears,
Turned from being white-golden flame,
And like the deep-sea blue became.
Balkis into her garden went;
Her spirit was in discontent
Like a torch in restless air.
Joylessly she wandered there,
And saw her city's azure white
Lying under the great night,
Beautiful as the memory
Of a worshipping world would be
In the mind of a god, in the hour
When he must kill his outward power;
And, coming to a pool where trees
Grew in double greeneries,
Saw herself, as she went by
The water, walking beautifully,
[...] Read more
poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Hymn to Love
We are thine, O Love, being in thee and made of thee,
As théou, Léove, were the déep thought
And we the speech of the thought; yea, spoken are we,
Thy fires of thought out-spoken:
But burn’d not through us thy imagining
Like fiérce méood in a séong céaught,
We were as clamour’d words a fool may fling,
Loose words, of meaning broken.
For what more like the brainless speech of a fool,—
The lives travelling dark fears,
And as a boy throws pebbles in a pool
Thrown down abysmal places?
Hazardous are the stars, yet is our birth
And our journeying time theirs;
As words of air, life makes of starry earth
Sweet soul-delighted faces;
[...] Read more
poem by Lascelles Abercrombie
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!