Alfred Austin

(30 May 1835 – 2 June 1913 / Headingley)

Alfred Austin Poems

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

    2 person liked.
    2 person did not like.
  • 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.

    14 person liked.
    4 person did not like.
Best Poem of Alfred Austin

A Last Request

Let not the roses lie
Too thickly tangled round my tomb,
Lest fleecy clouds that skim the summer sky,
Flinging their faint soft shadows, pass it by,
And know not over whom.

And let not footsteps come
Too frequent round that nook of rest;
Should I-who knoweth?-not be deaf, though dumb,
Bird's idle pipe, or bee's laborious hum,
Would suit me, listening, best.

And, pray you, do not hew
Words to provoke a smile or sneer;
But only carve-at least if they be true-
These simple words, or some such, and as few,
``He whom we loved lies here.''


Read the full of A Last Request


SHE wanders in the April woods,
That glisten with the fallen shower;
She leans her face against the buds,
She stops, she stoops, she plucks a flower.
She feels the ferment of the hour:
She broodeth when the ringdove broods;
The sun and flying clouds have power
Upon her cheek and changing moods.
She cannot think she is alone,

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