John William Inchbold

(1830-1888 / England)

Dedicatory


To that unconscious Beauty that has wrought
In me, through many years in many lands,
By stream and wood and plain and barren strands,
The joy that only comes of lovely thought,
Of Beauty born and Nature nourishèd,
And season-clothed in vestments fresh and pure,
With all about a heavenly garniture:—
Fresh coloured flowery thought by young dawn fed,
Or dim and glorious grown by moon and star.—
To Thee, whose breath of life is to diffuse
Rare joy and strength, I proffer each fair line,
That if but one sweet-souled true rhyme from far
Shall reach thine ear and touch thy heart, my Muse
May rest content in thus becoming thine.

Submitted: Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Dedicatory by John William Inchbold )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  9. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. A Duel, Nikola Vaptsarov
  2. Horses in Snow, Roberta Hill Whiteman
  3. Flood, gajanan mishra
  4. Audrey Hepburn (2nd version), Margaret Alice Second
  5. The Factory, Nikola Vaptsarov
  6. Remembrance, Nikola Vaptsarov
  7. Romance, Nikola Vaptsarov
  8. Spring In The Factory, Nikola Vaptsarov
  9. The Nile, Ruth Whitman
  10. Beautiful Hitchhiker, Ronald Chapman

Poem of the Day

poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Young Love lies sleeping
In May-time of the year,
Among the lilies,
Lapped in the tender light:
White lambs come grazing,
White doves come building there:
...... Read complete »

   

Member Poem

[Hata Bildir]