Robert Seymour Bridges Poems

I never shall love the snow again
Since Maurice died:
With corniced drift it blocked the lane,
And sheeted in a desolate plain
...

Whither, O splendid ship, thy white sails crowding,
Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West,
That fearest nor sea rising, nor sky clouding,
Whither away, fair rover, and what thy quest?
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When my love was away,
Full three days were not sped,
I caught my fancy astray
Thinking if she were dead,
...

I
I have lain in the sun,
I have toiled as I might,
I have thought as I would,
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I love all beauteous things,
I seek and adore them;
God hath no better praise,
...

While yet we wait for spring, and from the dry
And blackening east that so embitters March,
Well-housed must watch grey fields and meadows parch,
And driven dust and withering snowflake fly;
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The south-wind strengthens to a gale,
Across the moon the clouds fly fast,
The house is smitten as with a flail,
The chimney shudders to the blast.
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Unflinching hero, watchful to foresee
And face thy country's peril wheresoe'er,
Directing war and peace with equal care,
Till by long toil ennobled thou wert he
...

I have lain in the sun
I have toil'd as I might,
I have thought as I would,
And now it is night.
...

I have loved flowers that fade,
Within whose magic tents
Rich hues have marriage made
With sweet unmemoried scents:
...