Ever And Only.
Be with me ever and only,
No other in thought with you;
Only without me lonely,
Ever in this way true.
So will I be yours only,
Whatever I dream or do,
Only without you lonely,
Ever in this way true.
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
The Stream.
God but knows what path
This small stream must take,
Through what gleams and glooms
Which the years shall make.
In what ways austere
May these waters glide
Ere they have their part
In the timeless tide!
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Gold.
Ah, Gold! 'tis filthy lucre, honour's shame,
For which so many a Judas still sells truth!
It is the devil's lure; yet good men use it,
And many a dove for sacrifice within
The temple's been sold for it.
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Truth.
We sometimes hap on truth in a strange attire,
As even the gods were wont for their designs
To take on bestial forms; subduing so
Their natures, even their divinity,
To the achievement of a mortal thing.
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Song #2.
Have I not touched thy spirit?
Have I not heard it sing?
And can my love inherit
A purer, sweeter thing?
Alas! I am so earthy,
Yet e'en God's love might be
Less dear to thee, less worthy
Than my humanity.
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Theory And Practice.
He has ta'en on a theory, and into it
Striven to work his life — a false affair;
For every thought and feeling cannot be,
Like a mosaic, cut and trimmed to suit
Any particular design, however
Grand or beautiful.
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Youth And Age.
The last fruit off a tree is oft more sweet
And finely flavoured than the first, and so
Within life's autumn men may pleasures pluck
As sweet as youth's, and more sufficing than
The rank and rare enjoyments of the boy.
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Song #11.
The past is in us, and we find
The burden of our being there,
Who have been built up as the wind
From dreamy air.
Still all we touch on near and far
Has had an old beginning, and
A flower is mystic as a star
To understand.
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Deliberation.
Within the mist of argument men lose
Ofttimes the thread of reason, and the fume
Of thought, until its urgency subsides,
So cloudeth counsel, that on a debate
Time should avail for meditation ere
The matter comes to judgment.
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
Life, A Language.
Life is a language every man must use,
Some with a wondrous faculty, and some
So blindly that they seem like Caliban
Or e'er the good and great magician took
Pity upon his impotence, and made
The discord of his reason musical.
poem by Robert Crawford
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!