Frederick George Scott
Frederick George Scott Poems
|43.||Hymn (Sacred Feast)||3/31/2012|
|44.||The Skylark's Message||3/31/2012|
|45.||Hymn After Receiving Holy Communion||3/31/2012|
|46.||The Crown Of Thorns||3/31/2012|
|53.||The Burden Of Time||1/3/2003|
|54.||We Hail Thee Now, O Jesus||1/3/2003|
|56.||The Sting Of Death||1/3/2003|
|57.||The Unnamed Lake||1/3/2003|
|58.||In The Winter Woods||4/20/2010|
Comments about Frederick George Scott
O little hands, long vanished in the night--
Sweet fairy hands that were my treasure here--
My heart is full of music from some sphere,
Where ye make melody for God's delight.
Though autumn clouds obscure the starry height,
And winds are noisy and the land is drear,
In this blank room I feel my lost love near,
And hear you playing--hands so small and white.
The shadowy organ sings its songs again,
The dead years turn to music at its voice,
And all the dreams come back my brain did store.
Once more, dear hands, ye soothe me in my pain,
Once more ...
These mountains reign alone, they do not share
The transitory life of woods and streams;
Wrapt in the deep solemnity of dreams,
They drain the sunshine of the upper air.
Beneath their peaks, the huge clouds, here and there,
Take counsel of the wind, which all night screams
Through grey, burnt forests where the moonlight beams
On hidden lakes, and rocks worn smooth and bare.