Quicquid agimus, quicquid Patimur venit ex Alto

The countries tears, be ye my spring; my hill
A general Grave; let Groans inspire my Quill
With an Heart-rending Sense, drawn from the Cries
Of Orphan Churches, and the Destinies
Of a Bereaved House: Let Children weep
They scarce know why; and let the Mother steep
Her lifeless Hopes in Brine; The Private Friend
O'rewhelm'd with grief falter his Comforts end .
By a warm Sympathie let Feaverish Heat
Roam through my Verse unseen; and a Cold Sweat
Limning Despair, attend me; Sighs diffuse

The [weal] countless gold of a merry heart
The rubies & pearls of a loving eye
The [idle man] indolent never can bring to the mart
Nor the [cunning] secret hoard up in his treasury

Count each affliction, whether light or grave,
God's messenger sent down to thee; do thou
With courtesy receive him, rise and bow;
And, ere his shadow pass thy threshold, crave
Permission first his heavenly feet to lave;
Then lay before him all thou hast; allow
No cloud of passion to usurp thy brow,
Or mar thy hospitality; no wave
Of mortal tumult to obliterate
Thy soul's marmoreal calmness.
Grief should be
Like joy, majestic, equable, sedate,
Confirming, cleansing, raising, making free;
Strong to consume small troubles; to commend

C OULDST thou, Great Fairy, give to me
The instant's wish, that I might see
Of all the earth's that one dear sight
Known only in a dream's delight,
I would, beneath some island steep,
In some remote and sun-bright deep,
See high in heaven above me now
A palm-tree wave its rhythmic bough!

And yet this old pine's haughty crown,
Shaking its clouds of silver down,
Whispers me snatches of strange tunes
And murmur of those awful runes
Which tell by subtle spell, and power
Of secret sympathies, the hour

Could you tell me the way to Somewhere —
Some where, Some where,
I have heard of a place called Somewhere —
But know not where it can be.
It makes no difference,
Whether or not
I go in dreams
Or trudge on foot:
Would you tell me the way to Somewhere,

Could you not drink her gaze like wine?
Yet though its splendour swoon
Into the silence languidly
As a tune into a tune,
Those eyes unravel the coiled night
And know the stars at noon.

The gold that's heaped beside her hand,
In truth rich prize it were;
And rich the dreams that wreathe her brows
With magic stillness there;
And he were rich who should unwind
That woven golden hair.

Around her, where she sits, the dance
Now breathes its eager heat;
And not more lightly or more true
Fall there the dancers' feet

Could you bid an acorn
When in earth it heaves
On Time's backward wing be borne
To forgotten leaves:
Could you quiet Noah's Flood
To an essence rare,
Or bid the roaring wind
Confine in his lair:

Could round iron shell
When the spark was in it
Hold gun-powder so well
That it never split:
Had you reins for the sun,
And curb, and spur,
Held you God in a net
So He might not stir:

Then might you take this thing,
Then strangle it, kill:
By weighing, considering,
Conform it to will:
As man denied his Christ

COULD YE come back to me, Douglas, Douglas,
 In the old likeness that I knew,
I would be so faithful, so loving, Douglas,
 Douglas, Douglas, tender and true.

Never a scornful word should grieve ye,
 I'd smile on ye sweet as the angels do,
Sweet as your smile on me shone ever,
 Douglas, Douglas, tender and true.

O, to call back the days that are not!
 My eyes were blinded, your words were few;
Do you know the truth now up in heaven,
 Douglas, Douglas, tender and true?

I never was worthy of you, Douglas;

Could we only see the goodness
Of the ones we meet each day,
We'd not stop to criticize them
As we pass along life's way.
We'd tell others of their merits,
Rather than of faults we see;
Could we only see the goodness
Much more pleasant it would be.
Could we only see the burden
Carried by our fellowman,
We would be less prone to taunt him
As this earthly sphere we span.
We would seek to aid our brother,
Could we see the load he bears;
Critics would be few and scattered
If we knew each other's cares:

I

Could I but retrace
The winding stairs fate built me.
They fell from my feet.
Now I stand on the high round.
Down beneath height above depth —

II

Through the eyes of life
I looked in at my own heart:
A long furrowed field
Grown cement waiting for seed
Baking in desolation.

III

Drink in moods of joy!
Why should the sky be lonely?
Neither sun nor moon —
How my heart is shy of night
Like Autumn's leaf brown pendants.

IV

Cold against the sky
The blue jays cried at dawning.