Alfred Austin

(30 May 1835 – 2 June 1913 / Headingley)

Alfred Austin Poems

121. An April Love 4/8/2010
122. Dedication To The Edition Of 1876 To H.J.A. 4/8/2010
123. Free 4/8/2010
124. When In The Long-Drawn Avenues Of Thought 4/7/2010
125. The Aquittal Of Phryne 4/8/2010
126. Before, Behind, And Beyond 4/8/2010
127. I Chide Not At The Seasons 4/8/2010
128. Though All The World 4/8/2010
129. Love’s Unity 4/8/2010
130. Messalina 4/8/2010
131. A Souless Singer 4/8/2010
132. A Tusculan Question 4/8/2010
133. If I To You But Sorry Bring 4/8/2010
134. If They Dare! 4/8/2010
135. Hymn To Death 4/8/2010
136. Blanche 4/8/2010
137. Another Spring Carol 4/8/2010
138. Winter Violets 4/8/2010
139. Wordsworth At Dove Cottage 4/8/2010
140. Longing 4/8/2010
141. A Reply To A Pessimist 4/8/2010
142. Alfred’s Song 4/8/2010
143. December Matins 4/8/2010
144. Impromptu: To Frances Garnet Wolseley 4/8/2010
145. Primroses 4/8/2010
146. Sacred And Profane Love 4/8/2010
147. A Wild Rose 4/8/2010
148. Roses Crimson, Roses White 4/7/2010
149. The Lover’s Song 4/8/2010
150. George Eliot 4/8/2010
151. Spartan Mothers 4/8/2010
152. Madonna 4/8/2010
153. Nughtingale And Cuckoo 4/8/2010
154. Shelley’s Death 4/8/2010
155. To Beatrice Stuart--Wortley Ætat 4/8/2010
156. Two Visions 4/8/2010
157. Wardens Of The Wave 4/8/2010
158. The Fallen Elm 4/8/2010
159. Impromptu 4/8/2010
160. An Answer 4/8/2010

Comments about Alfred Austin

  • Sofia Kioroglou Sofia Kioroglou (4/16/2016 2:22:00 AM)

    I agree with John Mahon. He is an excellent poet and vastly underrated for sure!

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  • John Mahon (7/9/2013 10:17:00 AM)

    Vastly underrated. One of my favorite poets. Consistently solid poetry with plenty of very deep, moving and powerful pieces. Has a way with words even better than most poets of his era.

Best Poem of Alfred Austin

Love's Blindness

Now do I know that Love is blind, for I
Can see no beauty on this beauteous earth,
No life, no light, no hopefulness, no mirth,
Pleasure nor purpose, when thou art not nigh.
Thy absence exiles sunshine from the sky,
Seres Spring's maturity, checks Summer's birth,
Leaves linnet's pipe as sad as plover's cry,
And makes me in abundance find but dearth.
But when thy feet flutter the dark, and thou
With orient eyes dawnest on my distress,
Suddenly sings a bird on every bough,
The heavens expand, the earth grows less and less,
The ground is buoyant as ...

Read the full of Love's Blindness

At His Grave

LEAVE me a little while alone,
Here at his grave that still is strown
With crumbling flower and wreath;
The laughing rivulet leaps and falls,
The thrush exults, the cuckoo calls,
And he lies hush’d beneath.

With myrtle cross and crown of rose,
And every lowlier flower that blows,

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