The bright incarnate spirit of the Morn. Alfred Austin More Quotes by Alfred Austin More Quotes From Alfred Austin There is no gardening without humility Alfred Austin gardeninghumility Doth Nature draw me, 'tis because, Unto my seeming, there doth lurk A lawlessness about her laws, More mood than purpose in her work. Alfred Austin naturepurposelaw Faded smiles oft linger in the face, While grief's first flakes fall silent on the heart! Alfred Austin griefheartfall No one can rightly call his garden his own unless he himself made it. Alfred Austin made-itself-madegarden Is life worth living? Yes, so long As Spring revives the year, And hails us with the cuckoo's song, To show that she is here. Alfred Austin springsongyears When held up to the window pane, What fixed my baby stare? The glory of the glittering rain, And newness everywhere. Alfred Austin window-panesrainbaby Imagination in poetry, as distinguished from mere fancy is the transfiguring of the real or actual to the ideal. Alfred Austin fancyrealimagination Pale January lay Alfred Austin palecradlejanuary We are all alike, and we love to keep passion aglow at our feet, Like one that sitteth in shade and complacently smiles at the heat. Alfred Austin shadepassionfeet From sunny woof and cloudy weft Fell rain in sheets; so, to myself I hummed these hazard rhymes, and left The learned volume on the shelf. Alfred Austin sunnyhazardsrain Tis true among fields and woods I sing, Aloof from cities--that my poor strains Were born, like the simple flowers you bring, In English meadows and English lanes. Alfred Austin flowercitiessimple No verse which is unmusical or obscure can be regarded as poetry whatever other qualities it may possess. Alfred Austin obscurequalitymay Perhaps a maiden's bashfulness is more A matron's lesson than our lips aver. Alfred Austin maidenslipslessons In vain would science scan and trace Firmly her aspect. All the while, There gleams upon her far-off face A vague unfathomable smile. Alfred Austin gleamvainfaces Never did form more fairy thread the dance Than she who scours the hills to find it flowers; Never did sweeter lips chained ears entrance Than hers that move, true to its striking hours; No hands so white e'er decked the warrior's lance, As those which tend its lamp as darkness lours; And never since dear Christ expired for man, Had holy shrine so fair a sacristan. Alfred Austin warriorflowermoving Through the dripping weeks that follow One another slow, and soak Summer's extinguished fire and autumn's drifting smoke. Alfred Austin autumnfiresummer Falling stars are high examples sent To warn, not lure. Gross fancy says they are Substantial meteors; but that is not so. They are the merest phantasies of Night, When she's asleep, and, dimly visited By past effects, she dreams of Lucifer Hurled out of Heaven. Alfred Austin starsdreamfall Is life worth living? Yes, so long As there is wrong to right. Alfred Austin So long as faith with freedom reigns And loyal hope survives, And gracious charity remains To leaven lowly lives; While there is one untrodden tract For intellect or will, And men are free to think and act, Life is worth living still. Alfred Austin Tears are the summer showers to the soul. Alfred Austin showerssadtearssoulsummer
