All Poems

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3210

I have taken so much of your beauty, oh deep kind Earth,Face on your soft old face, heart on your warm heart lying --Scent of rain in leaves and the small stream's bubble of mirth,Hush of the sad-eyed pool that is dark with night-birds' crying,

Stars drowned deep in the lake, sunset's flame in a pine,Secret clutching fingers of baby ferns, close-curled --These are a stain of scent from a cool old perfumed wineThat sleeps in a carven chalice blue-glazed in the dawn of the world

In Darkness

© Hyde Robin

Lying awake in the darkI have suddenly thought(At the clasp of unseen fingers under my head),"God is no moreThan any apple-bough, then,Where the birds of the air have nest --Than the little, hardly-soughtHome of the field-mouse, high in the tawny grain,Where the spoiler looks in vain;Than the lowly earthen doorWhere the vixen runs to hide, as the bold hunt passesIn flurry of blood-red music and blood-crazed men;Than the bending meadow grassesUnder the breast of the lark

Hanmer Woods

© Hyde Robin

Autumn will walk there, with a breath of stardust,With the burnt brown fronds of bracken in her hair;Autumn will come with the frost on briar berries,And clean blue mornings, and smoke-hazed air.

Half Moon

© Hyde Robin

The little pools of starlight splashAgainst the poplars' slender lines;The moon is like a golden comb,Caught in the tresses of the pines.

Growing Old

© Hyde Robin

This it is to grow old,That I shall loseThe gift of laughter at small and simple things;And, if ever old dreams fly past me, the brush of wings,Damp with Elysian dews,Will seem strange and cold

The Forsaken

© Hyde Robin

These we may help no more

The Dusk Folk

© Hyde Robin

We are the oldest people, who have watched the world change

Defeat

© Hyde Robin

But that was no defeat. Defeat, my friend,Is a simple thing, and past your understanding.Defeat is no cry in the night, no sudden bandingTogether of men beleaguered, no comrade glance at the end ...

Awakener

© Hyde Robin

But rain slides round us now, a fine grey cloudLike the wraith castle in a fairy tale,Sheltering those hearts that could not quite prevailWith the bold gules and azure, painted proudOn earth's sure banners

Westminster Abbey

© Huxley Thomas Henry

October 12, 1892

From Shanklin

© Huxley Thomas Henry

March 1, 1887

Browning's Funeral

© Huxley Henrietta Anne Heathorn

December 31, 1889

An Agnostic Hymn

© Huxley Henrietta Anne Heathorn

Oh! not the unreasoning God for me,Foreseeing, knowing allThat in the wondrous world he madeHis creatures should befall.

Down Hearted Blues

Gee, but it's hard to love someone, when that someone don't love you

Saison des Semailles: Le Soir

C'est le moment crépusculaire.J'admire, assis sous un portail,Ce reste de jour dont s'éclaireLa dernière heure du travail.

Reverie

Oh! laissez-moi! c'est l'heure où l'horizon qui fumeCache un front inégal sous un cercle de brume,L'heure où l'astre géant rougit et disparaît

Pasteurs et Troupeaux

Le vallon où je vais tous les jours est charmant,Serein, abandonné, seul sous-le firmament,Plein de ronces en fleurs; c'est un sourire triste

Oceano Nox

Oh! combien de marins, combien de capitainesQui sont partis joyeux pour des courses lointaines,Dans ce morne horizon se sont évanouis!Combien ont disparu, dure et triste fortune!Dans une mer sans fond, par une nuit sans lune,Sous l'aveugle océan à jamais enfouis!

Combien de patrons morts avec leurs équipages!L'ouragan de leur vie a pris toutes les pages,Et d'un souffle il a tout dispersé sur les flots!Nul ne saura leur fin dans l'abîme plongée