Edward Henry Bickersteth Poems

Forget!—Ah! 'tis a bitter word
When spoken thus by thee,
The music of life's fitful chord
Will now unheeded be.
...

I will weave for thee a wreath, love,
Of roses bright and fair;
I will breathe for thee a sigh, love,
As I twine it mid thy hair.
...

I.
God is our strength and song,
The Rock of our salvation:
His courts of prayer, ye people, throng,
...

“Our visions are deceiving lights that lead us on to our destruction; our
idols are always broken in pieces before our eyes.”—
~Lady C. Bury.
...

“Sleep hath its own world,
And a wide realm of wild reality,
And dreams in their developement have breath,
...

Farewell! to the year which is past.
No longer we reckon its hours;
Like a shadow behind us 'tis cast,
And its sorrows may only be ours.
...

Our life is one long childhood—and each toy
Palls on our sick'ning fancy—all our joy
Is but imperfect—something, something still
...

A lily's odour—holy angels' light—
The tints of twilight bidding day farewell—
The plaint of friends—the bosom's heaving swell—
...

And does my Muse refuse to sing,
And will she not one wild note bring
The opening Spring to greet?
...

Say what is that sweet flower, whose balmy breath
Floats from afar on the breezes lightsome wings?
...