Rejected
The World denies her prophets with rash breath,
Makes rich her slaves, her flatterers adorns;
To wisdom's lips she presses drowsy death,
And on the brow Divine a crown of thorns.
Yet blessèd, though neglected and despised—
Who for the World himself hath sacrificed,
Who hears unmoved her witless mockery,
While to his spirit, slighted and misprized,
Whisper the voices of Eternity!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Love Sailed at Morn
Love sailed at morn in a fragile bark,
With broidered pennants flying:
His skies with sudden storm grew dark,
Yet gallant Love, with courage gay,
Rode jocund on his conquering way,
The winds and the waves defying.
But when, all peril overpast,
In tranquil harbor lying,
He felt no more the billowing blast
Oppose his sails, Love, joy-becalmed,
Each foe subdued, each effort balmed,
Without a wound, lay dying.
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Song : "If Love Were Not"
If love were not, the wilding rose
Would in its leafy heart inclose
No chalice of perfume;
By mossy bank, in glen, or grot,
No bird would build, if love were not,
No flower complacent bloom.
The sunset clouds would lose their dyes,
The light would fade from beauty's eyes,
The stars their fires consume,
And something missed from hall and cot
Would leave the world, if love were not,
A wilderness of gloom!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Rhapsody
As the mother-bird to the waiting nest,
As the regnant moon to the sea,
As joy to the heart that hath first been blest—
So is my love to me!
Sweet as the song of the lark that soars
From the net of the fowler free,
Sweet as the morning that song adores—
So is my love to me!
As the rose that blossoms in matchless grace
Where the canker may not be,
As the well that springs in a desert place—
So is my love to me!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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October
Sweet are the woodland notes
That gush melodious at morn from palpitating throats,
In anthems fresh as dew! Ay, they are sweet!
But from that dim retreat
Where Evening muses through the pensive hours,
There sometimes floats along
A more appealing song.
So, love, thy voice breathes a diviner music in the chill
Of autumn, when the glen is still
And Flora's gold all tarnished on the hill,
Than in the time when merry May calls forth her bashful flowers.
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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In April
When beeches bud and lilacs blow,
And Earth puts on her magic green;
When dogwoods bear their vernal snow
And skies grow deep the stars between,—
Then, O ye birds! awake and sing
The gladness at the heart of Spring!
When flowers blossom for the poor,
And Nature heals the hurt of years,
When wondering Love resists the cure,
Yet hopes again, and smiles through tears,—
Then, O ye birds! awake and sing
The gladness at the heart of Spring!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Pilgrimage
Wanderer from a fading strand
Unto shadowy shores unknown,
Thou whose sails are onward fanned
By flattering breezes,—hast thou planned
All thy course alone?
Canst thou tell, now clouds begin
To gather in thy path of day,
To what harbor thou shalt win,
As the long night closes in
On a wilder way?
Pilgrim, no: I cannot tell.
Strange my course, and stormy woes
And darkness may obscure its close;
Yet I feel that all is well,
For my Pilot knows!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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To-Morrow
The robin chants when the thrush is dumb,
Snow smooths a bed for the clover,
Life flames anew, and days to come
Are sweet as the days that are over.
The tide that ebbs by the moon flows back,
Faith builds on the ruins of sorrow,
The halcyon flutters in winter's track,
And night makes way for the morrow.
And ever a strain, of joys the sum,
Sings on in the heart of the lover—
In death sings on—that days to come
Are sweet as the days that are over!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Transition
Awake my soul!
Thou shalt not creep and crawl—
An earth-bound creature, pitiful and small,
Whose weak ambition knows no higher goal!
O wistful soul,
When morning sings,
Forgetful of the night,
Bathe all thy restless being in the light;
Till 'neath the mesh that close about thee clings
Thou feel thy wings!
Then find life's door,—
Trusting the instinct true
That points to Heaven and the aerial blue
A wingèd thing, impelled for evermore
To soar and soar!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Mine and Thine (1904)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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"Victi Resurgunt"
Heroes with eloquent flags unfurled
Have trumpeted loudly their just elation,
But the voice that hath sunk to the heart of the
world
Is the voice of renunciation.
It nothing vaunts, nor with idle sound
Perplexes the currents of human feeling,
But speaks with the accent and note profound
Of deep unto deep appealing.
And Earth—who worships her victims slain—
To faith's redeeming doth first awaken,
Recalling who, giving themselves in vain,
Seemed, even in death, forsaken!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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