English Poems (Paperback)

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1894 edition. Excerpt: ... way ne'er so bitter and long As the thorns and the miles of your day; NWe lovers who drown in the stress Of a sea that had made you but strong, In the hour of our weariness, O where might we look for a song Such comfort and courage to bring As your song which I never may sing. But vain is the breath of desire, And the voice of complaining is weak To call back the soul to the lyre And give us the singer we seek; High song must await the High Singer Though we thirst through a desert of years, And the lyre must await its Apollo, Though it grow all arust with our tears. Let thy voice then no longer complain, Thou mouth that may never attain So I, who were fain of your story To be its high-priest to the throng, To embody its mystical glory In a great eucharistical song, May know all the strength and the healing Of its bread and its wonderful wine, But none other may know the revealing Through unsanctified singing of mine; Never another of me shall take Its wine of my chalice, its bread that I break. Yet still may it be for my glory, Though never the priesthood to bear, To bend in the shrine of your story, As the lowliest acolyte there; And would that the rhyme I am bringing, A censer incuriously wrought, Might seem not too poor for the swinging, Nor too simple the gums I have brought: No marvel of gold-carven censer, No frankincense fragrance or myrrh. And O if some light from the splendour Of mystical Host might strike through These wreaths as they rise and transfigure Their grey to a glory for you, A glory for you as the sunrise Of the years that to-night have begun, What singer would ask for his songcraft Boon richer than that I had won? What token to augur were given More bright with the blessing of Heaven And O that these faint-breathing...