John Bannister Tabb
Father John Banister Tabb (March 22, 1845 - November 19, 1909) was an American poet, Roman Catholic priest, and professor of English. (Although often misspelled as Bannister, the poet's middle name is actually spelled with only one "n", Banister.)
Born into one of Virginia's oldest and wealthiest families, he became a blockade runner for the Confederacy during the Civil War, ... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
John Bannister Tabb Poems
What fruit of all thy blossom shed Remaineth unto me? 'A dream, whereon thy Fancy fed, Shall spin anon her golden thread,
Says the Shadow to the Sun, 'When the victory is done All the world that thou hast won Will be mine!'
Butterfly, Butterfly, sipping the sand, Have you forgotten the flowers of the land? Or are you so sated with honey and dew
Jack Frost's Apology
To strip you of your foliage My spirit sorely grieves; Nor will I in the work engage Unless you grant your leaves.
The Baby's Star
The Star that watched you in your sleep Has just put out his light. 'Good-day, to you on earth,' he said, 'Is here in heaven Good-night.
It was a very little Boy That on the river side Stood calling, 'Ferryman, ahoy! Come, take me o'er the tide!'
Bicycles! Tricycles! Nay, to shun laughter, Try cycles first, and buy cycles after; For surely the buyer deserves but the worst
High And Low
A boot and a Shoe and a Slipper Lived once in the Cobbler's row: But the Boot and the Shoe Would have nothing to do
Variety Is The Spice Of Life
Contrasts are striking, Teddy knows; And so, for a variety, The Black man to the White House goes, Rough-riding o'er society.
A Bunch Of Roses
The rosy mouth and rosy toe Of little baby brother Until about a month ago Had never met each other;
'Tis Nothingness that sunders me, O God, from thine Eternity, Wherein, a being yet to be, I dwelt forever one with Thee,
Apart, of death and silence we, The fittest emblems found, Together, mad with minstrelsy, Leap into life and sound.
To Bethlehem, to Bethlehem, The Magi move, and we with them, Along the selfsame road; Still following the Star of Peace,
He entered; but the mask he wore Concealed his face from me. Still, something I had seen before He brought to memory.
Comments about John Bannister Tabb
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
What fruit of all thy blossom shed
Remaineth unto me?
'A dream, whereon thy Fancy fed,
Shall spin anon her golden thread,
And then, of fetters free,
Arise with radiant pinions spread,
To heights of Poesy.'