Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Francis William Lauderdale Adams Poems
|82.||To John Ruskin||4/20/2010|
|83.||To Karl Marx||4/20/2010|
|84.||To Queen Victoria In England||4/20/2010|
|85.||To Sydney Jephcott||4/20/2010|
|86.||To The Christians||4/20/2010|
|87.||To The Emperor William I||4/20/2010|
|88.||To The Girls Of The Unions||4/20/2010|
|89.||To The Sons Of Labour||4/20/2010|
|91.||Why He Loves Her||4/20/2010|
'YES, let Art go, if it must be
That with it men must starve —
If Music, Painting, Poetry
Spring from the wasted hearth!'
Yes, let Art go, till once again
Through fearless heads and hands
The toil of millions and the pain
Be passed from out the lands:
Till from the few their plunder falls
To those who've toiled and earned
But misery's hopeless intervals
From those who've robbed and spurned.
Yes, let Art go, without a fear,
Like Autumn flowers we burn,
For, with her reawakening year,
Be sure she will return! —
Return, but greater, nobler ...
Love And Death
Death? is it death you give? So be it! O Death,
thou hast been long my friend, and now thy pale
cool cheek shall have my kiss, while the faint breath
expires on thy still lips, O lovely Death!
Come then, loose hands, fair Life, without a wail!
We've had good hours together, and you were sweet
what time love whispered with the nightingale,
tho' ever your music by the lark's would fail.