Playwrights From England

"But just as the world grew right again, We heard a wanderer out on the plain Singing what none of us understood; Yet we thought that the world grew thrice more sweet And the meadows were blossoming under his feet. And we felt a grand and beautiful fear, For we knew that a marvellous thought drew near; So we kept the glass for a little while: And the skies grew deeper and twice as bright, And the seas grew soft as a flower of light, And the meadows rippled from stile to stile; And memories danced in a musical throng Thro' the blossom that scented the wonderful song."

"The Flower of Old Japan. The Flower above all other flowers, The Flower that never dies; Before whose throne the scented hours Offer their sacrifice; The Flower that here on earth below Reveals the heavenly plan; But only little children know The Flower of Old Japan."

"Back to the glass in terror we came, And stared at the writing round the frame. We could not understand one word: And suddenly we thought we heard The hissing of the snakes again: How could we front them all alone? O, madly we clutched at the mirrored stone And wished we were back on the flowery plain: And swifter than thought and swift as fear The whole world flashed, and behold we were there."

"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight, But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light. Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, Then look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

"Mystery: Time and Tide shall pass, I am the Wisdom Looking-Glass.'This is the Ruby none can touch: Many have loved it overmuch; Its fathomless fires flutter and sigh, Being as images of the flame That shall make earth and heaven the same When the fire of the end reddens the sky, And the world consumes like a burning pall, Till where there is nothing, there is all."

"Like the dawn upon a dream Slowly through the scented gloom Crept once more the ruddy gleam O'er the friendly nursery room. There, before our waking eyes, Large and ghostly, white and dim, Dreamed the Flower that never dies, Opening wide its rosy rim."

"Go down to Kew in lilac-time, in lilac-time, in lilac-time; Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London!) And you shall wander hand in hand with love in summer's wonderland; Go down to Kew in lilac-time (it isn't far from London!)"

"There was music all about us, we were growing quite forgetful We were only singing seamen from the dirt of Londontown."

"Never since Drake and Raleigh won Our freedom of the seas, Have sons of Britain dared and done More valiantly than these."

"Carol, every violet has Heaven for a looking-glass!Every little valley lies Under many-clouded skies; Every little cottage stands Girt about with boundless lands; Every little glimmering pond Claims the mighty shores beyond; Shores no seaman ever hailed, Seas no ship has ever sailed.All the shores when day is done Fade into the setting sun, So the story tries to teach More than can be told in speech."

"A shadow leaned over me, whispering, in the darkness, Thoughts without sound; Sorrowful thoughts that filled me with helpless wonder And held me bound."

"Soundlessly, shadow with shadow, we wrestled together, Till the grey dawn."

"There’s a magic in the distance, where the sea-line meets the sky."

"Enough of dreams! No longer mock The burdened hearts of men! Not on the cloud, but on the rock Build thou thy faith again;O range no more the realms of air, Stoop to the glen-bound streams; Thy hope was all too like despair: Enough, enough of dreams."

"And at our feet unbroken lay The glass that had whirled us thither away: And in the grass, among the flowers We sat and wished all sorts of things: O, we were wealthier than kings! We ruled the world for several hours!And then, it seemed, we knew not why, All the daisies began to die. We wished them alive again; but soon The trees all fled up towards the moon Like peacocks through the sunlit air: And the butterflies flapped into silver fish; And each wish spoiled another wish; Till we threw the glass down in despair; For, getting whatever you want to get, Is like drinking tea from a fishing net."

"Dawn, ever bearing some divine increase Of beauty, love, and wisdom round the world, Dawn, like a wild-rose in the fields of heaven Washed grey with dew, awoke, and found the barque At anchor in a little land-locked bay."

"Descend, descend, Urania, speak To men in their own tongue! Leave not the breaking heart to break Because thine own is strong. This is the law, in dream and deed, That heaven must walk on earth! O, shine upon the humble creed That holds the heavenly birth."

"Beauty is a fading flower, Truth is but a wizard's tower, Where a solemn death-bell tolls, And a forest round it rolls."

"Heart of my heart, we are one with the wind, One with the clouds that are whirled o'er the lea, One in many, O broken and blind, One as the waves are at one with the sea! Ay! when life seems scattered apart, Darkens, ends as a tale that is told, One, we are one, O heart of my heart, One, still one, while the world grows old."

"Heart of my heart, the world is young; Love lies hidden in every rose! Every song that the skylark sung Once, we thought, must come to a close: Now we know the spirit of song, Song that is merged in the chant of the whole, Hand in hand as we wander along, What should we doubt of the years that roll?"

"We have come by curious ways To the Light that holds the days; We have sought in haunts of fear For that all-enfolding sphere: And lo! it was not far, but near.We have found, O foolish-fond, The shore that has no shore beyond.Deep in every heart it lies With its untranscended skies; For what heaven should bend above Hearts that own the heaven of love?"

"Once more I hear the everlasting sea Breathing beneath the mountain's fragrant breast"

"Critics, you have been so kind, I would not have you think me blind To all the wisdom that you preach; Yet before I strictlier run In straiter lines of chiselled speech, Give me one more hour, just one Hour to hunt the fairy gleam That flutters through this childish dream."

"The wind was a torrent of darkness upon the gusty trees, The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor, And the highwayman came riding — Riding — riding — The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door."

"It mocks me as it flies, I know: All too soon the gleam will go; Yet I love it and shall love My dream that brooks no narrower bars Than bind the darkening heavens above, My Jack o'Lanthorn of the stars: Then, I'll follow it no more, I'll light the lamp: I'll close the door."

"Yes; as the music changes, Like a prismatic glass, It takes the light and ranges Through all the moods that pass; Dissects the common carnival Of passions and regrets, And gives the world a glimpse of all The colours it forgets."

"Come and look for Peterkin, poor little Peterkin. No one would believe us if we told them what we know, Or they wouldn't grieve for Peterkin, merry little Peterkin..."

"I hear A gay modulating anguish, rather like music."

"The Great Bear is looking so geometrical One would think that something or other could be proved."

"The best Thing we can do is to make wherever we're lost in Look as much like home as we can."

"The moon is nothing But a circumambulating aphrodisiac Divinely subsidized to provoke the world Into a rising birth-rate."

"What after all Is a halo? It's only one more thing to keep clean."

"What is official Is incontestable. It undercuts The problematical world and sells us life At a discount."

"Where in this small-talking world can I find A longitude with no platitude?"

"And some to Meccah turn to pray, and I toward thy bed, Yasmin."

"The hour that dreams are brighter and winds colder, The hour that young love wakes on a white shoulder, O Master of the world, the Persian Dawn. That hour, O Master, shall be bright for thee: Thy merchants chase the morning down the sea, The braves who fight thy war unsheathe the sabre, The slaves who work thy mines are lashed to labour, For thee the waggons of the world are drawn— The ebony of night, the red of dawn!"

"We are the Pilgrims, master; we shall go Always a little further; it may be Beyond that last blue mountain barred with snow Across that angry or that glimmering sea,White on a throne or guarded in a cave There lies a prophet who can understand Why men were born: but surely we are brave, Who take the Golden Road to Samarkand."

"I hope I've done nothing so monosyllabic as to cheat, A spade is never so merely a spade as the word Spade would imply."

"The poet's business is not to save the soul of man but to make it worth saving."

"Poetry is the language in which man explores his own amazement... says heaven and earth in one word... speaks of himself and his predicament as though for the first time. It has the virtue of being able to say twice as much as prose in half the time, and the drawback, if you do not give it your full attention, of seeming to say half as much in twice the time."

"I tell you, Miss, I knows an undesirable character When I see one; I've been one myself for years."

"West of these out to seas colder than the Hebrides I must go Where the fleet of stars is anchored and the young Star captains glow."

"We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage: And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, We Poets of the proud old lineage Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why."

"When even lovers find their peace at last, And Earth is but a star, that once had shone."

"O friend unseen, unborn, unknown, Student of our sweet English tongue, Read out my words at night, alone: I was a poet, I was young."

"I care not if you bridge the seas, Or ride secure the cruel sky, Or build consummate palaces Of metal or of masonry. But have you wine and music still, And statues and a bright-eyed love, And foolish thoughts of good and ill, And prayers to them who sit above?"

"When the great markets by the sea shut fast All that calm Sunday that goes on and on: When even lovers find their peace at last, And Earth is but a star, that once had shone."

"I have seen old ships sail like swans asleep."

"A ship, an isle, a sickle moon — With few but with how splendid stars."

"The difference between tragedy and comedy is the difference between experience and intuition. In the experience we strive against every condition of our animal life: against death, against the frustration of ambition, against the instability of human love. In the intuition we trust the arduous eccentricities we're born to, and see the oddness of a creature who has never got acclimatized to being created."