Poems by Jean Ingelow, In Two Volumes, Volume II.

Jean Ingelow
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Title: Poems by Jean Ingelow, In Two Volumes, Volume II.
Author: Jean Ingelow
Release Date: August 19, 2004 [EBook #13224]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
? START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS BY JEAN INGELOW, II ***
Produced by Juliet Sutherland and PG Distributed Proofreaders
[Illustration: MISS INGELOW'S FORMER HOME.
BOSTON, LINCOLNSHIRE, ENG.
ST. BOTOLPH'S CHURCH IN THE DISTANCE.]
POEMS BY JEAN INGELOW
VOLUME II.
_TO JEAN INGELOW.
When youth was high, and life was new?And days sped musical and fleet,?She stood amid the morning dew,?And sang her earliest measures sweet,--?Sang as the lark sings, speeding fair?To touch and taste the purer air,?To gain a nearer view of Heaven;?'Twas then she sang "The Songs of Seven."
Now, farther on in womanhood,?With trainèd voice and ripened art,?She gently stands where once she stood,?And sings from out her deeper heart.?Sing on, dear Singer! sing again;?And we will listen to the strain,?Till soaring earth greets bending Heaven,?And seven-fold songs grow seventy-seven.
SUSAN COOLIDGE_
POEMS
BY
JEAN INGELOW
IN TWO VOLUMES
VOL. II.
BOSTON
ROBERTS BROTHERS
1896
AUTHOR'S COMPLETE EDITION.
CONTENTS OF VOL. II.
ROSAMUND?ECHO AND THE FERRY?PRELUDES TO A PENNY READING?KISMET?DORA?SPERANZA?THE BEGINNING?IN THE NURSERY?THE AUSTRALIAN BELL-BIRD?LOSS AND WASTE?ON A PICTURE?THE SLEEP OF SIGISMUND?A MAID-MARTYR?A VINE-ARBOUR IN THE FAR WEST?LOVERS AT THE LAKE SIDE?THE WHITE MOON?AN ARROW-SLIT?WENDOVER?THE LOVER PLEADS?SONG IN THREE PARTS?'IF I FORGET THEE, O JERUSALEM'?NATURE, FOR NATURE'S SAKE?PERDITA
SERIOUS POEMS, AND SONGS AND POEMS OF LOVE AND CHILDHOOD.
LETTERS ON LIFE AND THE MORNING?THE MONITIONS OF THE UNSEEN?THE SHEPHERD LADY
POEMS ON THE DEATHS OF THREE CHILDREN.?HENRY?SAMUEL?KATIE
THE SNOWDROP MONUMENT (IN LICHFIELD CATHEDRAL)
HYMNS.?THE MEASURELESS GULFS OF AIR ARE FULL OF THEE?THOU WERT FAR OFF AND IN THE SIGHT OF HEAVEN?THICK ORCHARDS ALL IN WHITE?SWEET ARE HIS WAYS WHO RULES ABOVE?O NIGHT OF NIGHTS?DEAR IS THE LOST WIFE TO A LONE MAN'S HEART?WEEPING AND WAILING NEEDS MUST BE?JESUS, THE LAMB OF GOD?THOU HAST BEEN ALWAY GOOD TO ME?THOU THAT SLEEPEST NOT AFRAID?NOW WINTER PAST, THE WHITE-THORN BOWER?SUCH AS HAVE NOT GOLD TO BRING THEE?A MORN OF GUILT, AN HOUR OF DOOM?MARY OF MAGDALA?WOULD I, TO SAVE MY DEAR CHILD?
AT ONE AGAIN
SONNETS.?FANCY?COMPENSATION?LOOKING DOWN?WORK?WISHING?TO ----?ON THE BORDERS OF CANNOCK CHASE?AN ANCIENT CHESS KING?COMFORT IN THE NIGHT?THOUGH ALL GREAT DEEDS?A SNOW MOUNTAIN?SLEEP?PROMISING?LOVE?FAILURE
A BIRTHDAY WALK?NOT IN VAIN I WAITED?A GLEANING SONG?WITH A DIAMOND?MARRIED LOVERS?A WINTER SONG?BINDING SHEAVES?THE MARINER'S CAVE?A REVERIE?DEFTON WOOD?THE LONG WHITE SEAM?AN OLD WIFE'S SONG?COLD AND QUIET?SLEDGE BELLS?MIDSUMMER NIGHT, NOT DARK, NOT LIGHT?THE BRIDEGROOM TO HIS BRIDE?THE FAIRY WOMAN'S SONG?ABOVE THE CLOUDS?SLEEP AND TIME?BEES AND OTHER-FELLOW-CREATURES?THE GYPSY'S SELLING SONG?A WOOING SONG?A COURTING SONG?LOVE'S THREAD OF GOLD?THE LEAVES OF LIGN ALOES?THE DAYS WITHOUT ALLOY?FEATHERS AND MOSS?ON THE ROCKS BY ABERDEEN?LIKE A LAVEROCK IN THE LIFT?SONG FOR A BABE?GIVE US LOVE AND GIVE US PEACE
THE TWO MARGARETS?MARGARET BY THE MERE SIDE?MARGARET IN THE XEBEC
A STORY OF DOOM
POEMS
ROSAMUND.
His blew His winds, and they were scattered.
'One soweth and another reapeth.'
Ay,?Too true, too true. One soweth--unaware?Cometh a reaper stealthily while he dreams--?Bindeth the golden sheaf, and in his bosom?As 't were between the dewfall and the dawn?Bears it away. Who other was to blame??Is it I? Is it I?--No verily, not I,?'T was a good action, and I smart therefore;?Oblivion of a righteous enmity?Wrought me this wrong. I pay with my self ruth?That I had ruth toward mine enemy;?It needed not to slay mine enemy,?Only to let him lie and succourless?Drift to the foot o' the Everlasting Throne;?Being mine enemy, he had not accused?One of my nation there of unkind deeds?Or ought the way of war forbids.
Let be!?I will not think upon it. Yet she was--?O, she was dear; my dutiful, dear child.?One soweth--Nay, but I will tell this out,?The first fyte was the best, I call it such?For now as some old song men think on it.
I dwell where England narrows running north;?And while our hay was cut came rumours up?Humming and swarming round our heads like bees:
'Drake from the bay of Cadiz hath come home,?And they are forth, the Spaniards with a force?Invincible.'
'The Prince of Parma, couched?At Dunkirk, e'en by torchlight makes to toil?His shipwright thousands--thousands in the ports?Of Flanders and Brabant. An hundred hendes?Transports to his great squadron adding, all?For our confusion.'
'England's great ally?Henry of France, by insurrection fallen,?Of him the said Prince Parma mocking cries,?He shall not help the Queen of England now?Not even with his tears, more needing them?To weep his own misfortune.'
Was that all?The truth? Not half, and yet it was enough?(Albeit not half that half was well believed),?For all the land stirred in the half belief?As dreamers stir about to wake; and now?Comes the Queen's message, all her lieges bid?To rise, 'lieftenants, and the better sort?Of gentlemen' whereby the Queen's grace meant,?As
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