Frederick George Scott
Frederick George Scott Poems
|7.||British War Song||3/31/2012|
|8.||The Poet's Song||3/31/2012|
|10.||On The Cliff||3/31/2012|
|11.||Lines Written On Finishing The Life Of Milton||3/31/2012|
|19.||Under The Pines||3/31/2012|
|22.||On Darwin's Tomb In Westminster Abbey||3/31/2012|
|23.||Epitaph On Dr. Jenner||3/31/2012|
|25.||A Wayside Cross||3/31/2012|
|27.||Across The Sea||3/31/2012|
|29.||On Being Given A Piece Of Edelweiss Before Visiting Switzerland||3/31/2012|
|32.||The Poet's Empire||3/31/2012|
|33.||In Memoriam E.S.||3/31/2012|
|36.||At Madame Tussaud's||3/31/2012|
|37.||The Soul's Quest||3/31/2012|
|39.||New Year's Eve||3/31/2012|
What is the gift we have given thee, Sister?
What is the trust we have laid in thy hand?
Hearts of our bravest, our best, and our dearest,
Blood of our blood we have sown in thy land.
What for all time will the harvest be, Sister?
What will spring up from the seed that is sown?
Freedom and peace and goodwill among Nations,
Love that will bind us with love all our own.
Bright is the path that is opening before us,
Upward and onward it mounts through the night:
Sword shall not sever the bonds that unite us
Leading the world to the fullness of ...
I saw Time in his workshop carving faces;
Scattered around his tools lay, blunting griefs,
Sharp cares that cut out deeply in reliefs
Of light and shade; sorrows that smooth the traces
Of what were smiles. Nor yet without fresh graces
His handiwork, for ofttimes rough were ground
And polished, oft the pinched made smooth and round;
The calm look, too, the impetuous fire replaces.
Long time I stood and watched; with hideous grin