Alfred Austin Poems

Hit Title Date Added
To Beatrice Stuart--Wortley Ætat

Patter, patter, little feet,
Making music quaint and sweet,
Up the passage, down the stair;
Patter, patter everywhere.

George Eliot

Dead! Is she dead?
And all that light extinguished!

Mend your words,


Let me, calm face, remain
For ever in these sweet sequestered nooks,
Remote from pain,
Where leafy laurustinus overlooks

Spartan Mothers

``One more embrace! Then, o'er the main,
And nobly play the soldier's part!''
Thus sounds, amid the martial strain,

The Door Of Humility

We lead the blind by voice and hand,
And not by light they cannot see;
We are not framed to understand

The Lover’s Song

When Winter hoar no longer holds
The young year in his gripe,
And bleating voices fill the folds,

Sacred And Profane Love

In the dark shadow of the windless pines
Whose gloomy glory lines the obsequies
Of the gaunt Claudian Aqueduct along

A Wild Rose

The first wild rose in wayside hedge,
This year I wandering see,
I pluck, and send it as a pledge,
My own Wild Rose, to Thee.

Roses Crimson, Roses White

`Roses crimson, roses white,
Deadly pale or lovely blushing,
Both in love with May at sight,
And their maiden blood is rushing
To and fro in hope ...

December Matins

``Why, on this drear December morn,
Dost thou, lone Misselthrush, rehearse thy chanting?
The corals have been rifled from the thorn,