Never Seek to Tell thy Love by William Blake
Never seek to tell thy love
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind does move
Silently, invisibly.
I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears--
Ah, she doth depart.
Soon as she was gone from me
A traveller came by
Silently, invisibly--
O, was no deny.
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When my love did what I would not by Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
When my love did what I would not, what I would not,
I could hear his merry voice upon the wind,
Crying, 'e;Fairest, shut your eyes, for see you should not.
Love is blind!'
When my love said what I say not, what I say not,
With a joyous laugh he quieted my fears,
Whispering, 'Fairest, hearken not, for hear you may not.
Hath Love ears?'
When my love said, 'Will you longer let me seek it?
Blind and deaf is she that doth not bid me come!'
All my heart said murmuring, 'Dearest, can I speak it?
Love is dumb!
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The Penitent by Anne Bronte
I mourn with thee and yet rejoice
That thou shouldst sorrow so;
With Angel choirs I join my voice
To bless the sinner's woe.
Though friends and kindred turn away
And laugh thy grief to scorn,
I hear the great Redeemer say
'Blessed are ye that mourn'.
Hold on thy course nor deem it strange
That earthly cords are riven.
Man may lament the wondrous change
But 'There is joy in Heaven'!
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Oh! That We Two Were Maying by Charles Kingsley
Oh! that we two were Maying
Down the stream of the soft spring breeze;
Like children with violets playing
In the shade of the whispering trees.
Oh! that we two sat dreaming
On the sward of some sheep-trimmed down,
Watching the white mist steaming
Over river and mead and town.
Oh! that we two lay sleeping
In our nest in the churchyard sod,
With our limbs at rest on the quiet earth's breast,
And our souls at home with God!
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Rugby Chapel Part 3 by Matthew Arnold
Yes, in some far-shining sphere,
Conscious or not of the past,
Still thou performest the word
Of the Spirit in whom thou dost live--
Prompt, unwearied, as here!
Still thou upraisest with zeal
The humble good from the ground,
Sternly repressest the bad!
Still, like a trumpet, dost rouse
Those who with half-open eyes
Tread the border-land dim
'Twixt vice and virtue; reviv'st,
Succourest!--this was thy work,
This was thy life upon earth.
What is the course of the life
Of mortal men on the earth?--
Most men eddy about
Here and there--eat and drink,
Chatter and love and hate,
Gather and squander, are raised
Aloft, are hurl'd in the dust,
Striving blindly, achieving
Nothing; and then they die--
Perish;--and no one asks
Who or what they have been,
More than he asks what waves,
In the moonlit solitudes mild
Of the midmost Ocean, have swell'd,
Foam'd for a moment, and gone.
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