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(1842-1881 / Macon / Georgia)

Quotations

  • ''Out of the woods my Master came,
    Content with death and shame.
    When Death and Shame would woo Him last,
    From under the trees they drew Him last:
    'Twas on a tree they slew Him—last
    When out of the woods He came.''
    Sidney Lanier (1842-1881), U.S. poet. A Ballad of Trees and the Master (l. 11-16). . . Oxford Book of American Verse, The. F. O. Matthiessen, ed. (1950) Oxford University Press.
    22 person liked.
    5 person did not like.
  • ''Into the woods my Master went,
    Clean forspent, forspent.
    Into the woods my Master came,
    Forspent with love and shame,
    But the olives they were not blind to Him;''
    Sidney Lanier (1842-1881), U.S. poet. A Ballad of Trees and the Master (l. 1-5). . . Oxford Book of American Verse, The. F. O. Matthiessen, ed. (1950) Oxford University Press.
  • ''But oh, not the hills of Habersham,
    And oh, not the valleys of Hall
    Avail: I am fain for to water the plain.
    Downward, the voices of Duty call—
    Downward, to toil and be mixed with the main,
    The dry fields burn, and the mills are to turn,
    And a myriad flowers mortally yearn,
    And the lordly main from beyond the plain
    Calls o'er the hills of Habersham,
    Calls through the valleys of Hall.''
    Sidney Lanier (1842-1881), U.S. poet. Song of the Chattahoochee (l. 41-50). . . Family Book of Best Loved Poems, The. David L. George, ed. (1952) Doubleday & Company.
  • ''Beautiful glooms, soft dusks in the noon-day fire,—
    Wildwood privacies, closets of lone desire,
    Chamber from chamber parted with wavering arras of leaves,—
    Cells for the passionate pleasure of prayer to the soul that grieves,
    Pure with a sense of the passing of saints through the wood,
    Cool for the dutiful weighing of ill with good;—''
    Sidney Lanier (1842-1881), U.S. poet. The Marshes of Glynn (l. 11-16). . . Oxford Book of American Verse, The. F. O. Matthiessen, ed. (1950) Oxford University Press.
  • ''And my spirit is grown to a lordly great compass within,
    That the length and the breadth and the sweep of the marshes of
    Glynn
    Will work me no fear like the fear they have wrought me of yore
    When length was failure, and when breadth was but bitterness sore,
    And when terror and shrinking and dreary unnamable pain
    Drew over me out of the merciless miles of the plain,—
    Oh, now, unafraid, I am fain to face
    The vast sweet visage of space.''
    Sidney Lanier (1842-1881), U.S. poet. The Marshes of Glynn (l. 11-16). . . Oxford Book of American Verse, The. F. O. Matthiessen, ed. (1950) Oxford University Press.

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Laus Mariae

Across the brook of Time man leaping goes
On stepping-stones of epochs, that uprise
Fixed, memorable, midst broad shallow flows
Of neutrals, kill-times, sleeps, indifferencies.
So twixt each morn and night rise salient heaps:
Some cross with but a zigzag, jaded pace
From meal to meal: some with convulsive leaps
Shake the green tussocks of malign disgrace:
And some advance by system and deep art

[Hata Bildir]