Jean Ingelow Poems

Laura, my Laura! 'Yes, mother!' 'I want you, Laura; come down.'
'What is it, mother—what, dearest? O your loved face how it pales!
You tremble, alas and alas—you heard bad news from the town?'
'Only one short half hour to tell it. My poor courage fails—
...

When I hear the waters fretting,
When I see the chestnut letting
All her lovely blossom falter down, I think, “Alas the day!”
Once with magical sweet singing,
...

SEVEN TIMES ONE. EXULTATION.

There's no dew left on the daisies and clover,
There's no rain left in heaven:
I've said my 'seven times' over and over,
...

The yellow poplar leaves came down
And like a carpet lay,
No waftings were in the sunny air
To flutter them away;
...

We reached the place by night,
And heard the waves breaking:
They came to meet us with candles alight
To show the path we were taking.
...

Marvels of sleep, grown cold!
Who hath not longed to fold
With pitying ruth, forgetful of their bliss,
Those cherub forms that lie,
...

The white broom flatt'ring her flowers in calm June weather,
'O most sweet wear;
Forty-eight weeks of my life do none desire me,
Four am I fair,'
...

I
An empty sky, a world of heather,
Purple of foxglove, yellow of broom;
We two among them wading together,
...

Above the head of great Methuselah
There lay two demons in the opened roof
Invisible, and gathered up his words;
For when the Elder prophesied, it came
...

Grand is the leisure of the earth;
She gives her happy myriads birth,
And after harvest fears not dearth
...