Alfred Austin

From tangled brake and trellised bower Bring every bud that blows,
But never will you find the flower To match an English rose
It blooms with more than city grace,
Though rustic and apart;

Long ere the Muse the strenuous chords had swept,
And the first lay as yet in silence slept,
A Time there was which since has stirred the lyre To notes of wail and accents warm with fire;
Moved the soft Mantuan to his silvery strain,

Who would not die for England
This great thought,
Through centuries of Glory handed down By storied vault in monumental fane,
And homeless grave in lone barbaric lands,

TE little hands
Pink little feet
Dimpled all over,    Sweet, sweet, sweet
What dost thou wail for

ND We lead the blind by voice and hand, And not by light they cannot see;
We are not framed to understand The How and Why of such as He;
But natured only to rejoice At every sound or sign of hope,
And, guided by the still small voic...

Personages:     Olympia—     Godfrid—     Gilbert—     Olive
Protagonists:     Love—     Religion
Place:
Spiaggiascura—Milan—Florence

Tell me your race, your name,
O Lady limned as dead, yet as when living fair
That within this faded frame An unfading beauty wear
Were you ever known to fame,

Now let no passing—bell be tolled,
Wail now no dirge of gloom;
Nor around purple pall unfold The trappings of the tomb
Dead

RE’S to him that grows it, Drink, lads, drink
That lays it in and mows it, Clink, jugs, clink
To him that mows and makes it, That scatters it and shakes it, That turns, and teds, and rakes it, Clink, jugs, clink
Now here ’s to him t...

Exile or Caesar
Death hath solved thy doubt,
And made thee certain of thy changeless fate;
And thou no more hast wearily to wait,

HE
AB, the bullace, and the sloe, They burgeon in the Spring; And, when the west wind melts the snow, The redstarts build and sing
But Death’s at work in rind and root, And loves the green buds best; And when the pairing music’s mute, He...

With shimmer of steel and blare of brass,
And Switzers marching with martial stride,
And cavaliers trampling brown the grass,
Came bow—legged Charles through the Apennine pass,