HENRY ABBEY QUOTES II
American poet (1842-1911)
The artist labors while he may,
But finds at best too brief the day;
And, tho' his works outlast the time
And nation that they make sublime,
He feels and sees that Nature knows
Nothing of time in what she does,
But has a leisure infinite
Wherein to do her work aright.
HENRY ABBEY
"Along the Nile"
The Summer-time will come again
To kiss the brow of dying Spring,
And, with the south wind's low refrain,
A choral requiem will she sing.
HENRY ABBEY
"Leah"
I am the far-seen mountain
Before thee towering high,
Where, peak beyond peak reaching,
Rise others such as I.
Our dark-blue robes at twilight
We draw about our forms;
Ours is the boundless quiet
That dwells above the storms.
HENRY ABBEY
"The Spirit of the Mountain"
Though Duty's face is stern, her path is best: they sweetly sleep who die upon her breast.
HENRY ABBEY
"The Roman Sentinel"
And once I knew a meditative rose that never raised its head from bowing down, yet drew its inspiration from the stars. It bloomed and faded here beside the road, and, being a poet, wrote on empty air with fragrance all the beauty of its soul.
HENRY ABBEY
"A Morning Pastoral"
I only ask to drink experience deep;
And, in the sad, sweet goblet of my years,
To find love poured with all its smiles and tears,
And quaffing this, I too shall sweetly sleep.
HENRY ABBEY
"While the Days Go By"
O May! robed in your gown of flowers,
Nun-like, gaze from your balmy cell,
Under your crown of asphodel,
And sentinel all the summer hours;
Rising among your daisy bowers,
Like Venus from her cradled shell!
HENRY ABBEY
"May Dreams"
I had a vision of mankind to be:
I saw no grated windows, heard no roar
From iron mouths of war on land or sea;
Ambition broke the sway of peace no more.
Out of the chaos of ill-will had come
Cosmos, the Age of Good, Millennium!
HENRY ABBEY
"The Age of Good"
I shall not say, our life is all in vain,
For peace may cheer the desolated hearth;
But well I know that, on this weary earth,
Round each joy-island is a sea of pain.
HENRY ABBEY
"While the Days Go By"
So many poets die ere they are known,
I pray you, hear me kindly for their sake.
Not of the harp, but of the soul alone,
Is the deep music all true minstrels make:
Hear my soul's music, and I will beguile,
With string and song, your festival awhile.
HENRY ABBEY
"The Troubadour"
As thoughts possess the fashion of the mood
That gave them birth, so every deed we do,
Partakes of our inborn disquietude
That spurns the old and reaches toward the new.
HENRY ABBEY
"Faciebat"
Envy is the coward side of Hate, and all her ways are bleak and desolate.
HENRY ABBEY
"The Host's Humility"
O May! your cheeks are sunset skies,
Which the lips of the verge shall press,
And the amber clouds caress--
Drifting along in the light which lies
Over your soul-lit, jasmine eyes,
In all its golden tenderness!
HENRY ABBEY
"May Dreams"
Behold the grapes and all the fruits that Autumn gives today, as robed in red and gold, she rules, the Empress of Decay!
HENRY ABBEY
"Autumn Ballad"
Most men are prisoners at best, who some strong habit every drag about like chain and ball.
HENRY ABBEY
"The Galley Slave"