https://sonett.fontane-place.de/ Sat, 27 Jun 2026 03:56:47 +0000 MyBB https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=31372 Thu, 30 Apr 2026 00:34:25 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=31372 W. C. Scully
Südafrika


THE PRAYER.

Talk not of prayers that fail; the prayers unheard
Are not the askings Paul meant when he said:
"Pray without ceasing." Be thou well assured,
The true petition, not of barren word,

But plumed of deed, scales Heaven overhead,
Where souls and suns from God's high throne are shed.
Pray without ceasing, let good deeds unfold
Like petals of a rose, until, complete,

The flower of asking, full and fair and sweet,
Is fit for God's right hand to take and hold.
False prayers are barren breath, like vapour rolled

Between men and the stars; they hide the feet
Of angels. But the true prayer, wise and meet,
From chiming sphere to sphere on high is told.]]> W. C. Scully
Südafrika


THE PRAYER.

Talk not of prayers that fail; the prayers unheard
Are not the askings Paul meant when he said:
"Pray without ceasing." Be thou well assured,
The true petition, not of barren word,

But plumed of deed, scales Heaven overhead,
Where souls and suns from God's high throne are shed.
Pray without ceasing, let good deeds unfold
Like petals of a rose, until, complete,

The flower of asking, full and fair and sweet,
Is fit for God's right hand to take and hold.
False prayers are barren breath, like vapour rolled

Between men and the stars; they hide the feet
Of angels. But the true prayer, wise and meet,
From chiming sphere to sphere on high is told.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=31366 Tue, 28 Apr 2026 08:37:47 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=31366 William Charles Scully
1855 - 1943 Südafrika


GOOD AND EVIL.

Methought I saw an angel on the sun
Sit throned, whilst around the planets swayed,
Each with its guiding spirit, that obeyed
In duteous wise that lofty-visaged one;

But on this earth it seemed two spirits fought
A deadly combat, struggling hand to hand—
The Good and Evil, over sea and land
Locked in a strife with dreadful issues fraught.

For as the calm-eyed ruler of each sphere
Bore slowly past the battle-riven world,
Firm in his mighty hand he held a spear

Poised o'er his head, and ready to be hurled—
To dash this globe to fragments as it whirled,
Should evil's brow the wreath of victory wear.]]> William Charles Scully
1855 - 1943 Südafrika


GOOD AND EVIL.

Methought I saw an angel on the sun
Sit throned, whilst around the planets swayed,
Each with its guiding spirit, that obeyed
In duteous wise that lofty-visaged one;

But on this earth it seemed two spirits fought
A deadly combat, struggling hand to hand—
The Good and Evil, over sea and land
Locked in a strife with dreadful issues fraught.

For as the calm-eyed ruler of each sphere
Bore slowly past the battle-riven world,
Firm in his mighty hand he held a spear

Poised o'er his head, and ready to be hurled—
To dash this globe to fragments as it whirled,
Should evil's brow the wreath of victory wear.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=31365 Sun, 26 Apr 2026 00:37:38 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=31365 William Charles Scully
1855 - 1943 Südafrika

I leant my breast against the golden gate
That bars the body from the land of dreams,
But lets the soul to roam in lawns where wait
Or wander down the banks of shining streams

The dead and living, holding strange debate
Of things that yet should happen 'neath the beams
Of suns as yet unrisen, whilst listless Fate
Paused, and the stars unyoked their tired teams.

And as my hand the latch sought, for I fain
Had followed one who wore a white rose-wreath,
Sleep touched mine eyes with darkness, and the pain

Of longing ceased; and when I next drew breath
I heard a voice low whisper, "It is vain
To enter here—thou first must drink of death!"]]> William Charles Scully
1855 - 1943 Südafrika

I leant my breast against the golden gate
That bars the body from the land of dreams,
But lets the soul to roam in lawns where wait
Or wander down the banks of shining streams

The dead and living, holding strange debate
Of things that yet should happen 'neath the beams
Of suns as yet unrisen, whilst listless Fate
Paused, and the stars unyoked their tired teams.

And as my hand the latch sought, for I fain
Had followed one who wore a white rose-wreath,
Sleep touched mine eyes with darkness, and the pain

Of longing ceased; and when I next drew breath
I heard a voice low whisper, "It is vain
To enter here—thou first must drink of death!"]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=31364 Wed, 22 Apr 2026 09:03:20 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=31364 William Charles Scully
1855 - 1943 Südafrika


NAMAQUALAND.

A land of deathful sleep, where fitful dreams
Of hurrying spring scarce wake swift fading flowers;
A land of fleckless sky, and sheer-shed beams
Of sun and stars through day's and dark’s slow hours,

A land where sand has choked once fluent streams—
Where grassless plains lie girt by granite towers
That fright the swift and heaven-nurtured teams
Of winds that bear afar the sea-gleaned showers.

The wild Atlantic, fretted by the breath
Of fiery gales o’er leagues of desert sped,
Rolls back, and wreaks in surf its thunderous wrath

On rocks that down the wan, wide shore are spread;
The waves for ever roar a song of death,
The shore they roar to is for ever dead.

.]]> William Charles Scully
1855 - 1943 Südafrika


NAMAQUALAND.

A land of deathful sleep, where fitful dreams
Of hurrying spring scarce wake swift fading flowers;
A land of fleckless sky, and sheer-shed beams
Of sun and stars through day's and dark’s slow hours,

A land where sand has choked once fluent streams—
Where grassless plains lie girt by granite towers
That fright the swift and heaven-nurtured teams
Of winds that bear afar the sea-gleaned showers.

The wild Atlantic, fretted by the breath
Of fiery gales o’er leagues of desert sped,
Rolls back, and wreaks in surf its thunderous wrath

On rocks that down the wan, wide shore are spread;
The waves for ever roar a song of death,
The shore they roar to is for ever dead.

.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23311 Wed, 27 Aug 2014 18:17:58 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23311 (* 11. Juni 1892 in London; † 4. Mai 1953)


Sonnets On Separation

I.

The time shall be, old Wisdom says, when you
Shall grow awrinkled and I, indifferent,
Shall no more follow the light steps I knew
Or trace you, finding out the way you went,
By swinging branches and the displaced flowers
Among the thickets. I no more shall stand,
With careful pencil through the adoring hours
Scratching your grace on paper. My still hand
No more shall tremble at the touch of yours
And I'll write no more songs and you'll not sing.
But this is all a lie, for love endures
And we shall closer kiss, remembering
How budding trees turned barren in the sun
Through this long week, whereof one day's now done.


II.

The time is all so short. One week is much
To be without your deep and peaceful eyes,
Your soft and all-contenting cheek, the touch
Of well-caressing hands. O were we wise
We would not love too strongly, would not bind
Life into life so inextricably,
That the dumb body suffers with the mind
In a sad partnership this agony.
For death will come and swallow up us two,
You there, I here, and we shall lie apart,
Out of the houses and the woods we knew.
Then in the lonely grave, my dust-choked heart
Out of the dust will raise, if it can speak,
A threnody for this lost, lovely week.


III.

Is there no prophylactic against love?
Can I with drugs not dull the ache one night?
The rain is heavy and the low clouds move
Over the empty home of our delight
And find me in it weeping. You are far
And you are now asleep. The night's so thick,
Not even one stooping and compassionate star
Shines on us both disparted. O be quick,
Torturing days and heavy, turn your hours
To minutes, melt yourselves into one day!
... The cold rain falls in swift assailing showers,
Darkness is round me and light far away.
I'm in our well-known room and you're shut in
By strange unfriendly walls I've never seen.


IV.

Lovers that drug themselves for ecstasy
Seek love too closely in an overdose,
When the sweet spasm turns to agony
And the quick limbs are still and the eyes close.
I too, a fool, desired--to make love strong--
Absence and parting but the measure's brimmed,
The dose is over-poured, the time's too long
Already, though two nights have hardly dimmed
My lonely eyes with the elusive sleep.
O I'll remember, I'll not wish again
To go with ardent limbs into this deep
Sea of dejection, this dull mere of pain:
We'll love our safer loves upon the shore
And quest for inexperienced joys no more.


V.

Through the closed curtains comes the early sun,
First a pale finger, preluding the hand.
Outside more certainly the day's begun,
Where bright and brighter still the chestnuts stand,
Broad candles lighting up at the first fire.
I stir and turn in my uneasy sleep
But in my sorrow sleep's my whole desire.
About the still room small lights move and creep
Silently, stealthily on wall and chair,
Till to strong rays and shining lights they grow,
Which with their magic change the waiting air
And all its sleeping motes to gold and throw
A golden radiance on your empty bed,
Which wakes me with vain likeness to your head.


VI.

To-morrow I shall see you come again
Between the pale trees, through the sullen gate,
Out of the dark and secret house of pain
Where lie the unhappy and unfortunate.
To-morrow you will live with me and love me,
Spring will go on again, I'll see the flowers
And little things, ridiculous things, shall move me
To smiles or tears or verse. The world is ours
To-morrow. Open heaths, tall trees, great skies,
With massive clouds that fly and come again,
Sweet fields, delicious rivers and the rise
And fall of swelling land from the swift train
We'll see together, knowing that all this
Is one great room wherein we two may kiss.


VII.

We're at the world's top now. The hills around
Stand proud in order with the valleys deep,
The hills with pastures drest, with tall trees crowned,
And the low valleys dipt in sunny sleep.
A sound brims all the country up, a noise
Of wheels upon the road and labouring bees
And trodden heather, mixing with the voice
Of small lost winds that die among the trees.
And we are prone beneath the flooding sun,
So drenched, so soaked in the unceasing light,
That colours, sounds and your close presence are one,
A texture woven up of all delight,
Whose shining threads my hands may not undo,
Yet one thread runs the whole bright garment through.]]> (* 11. Juni 1892 in London; † 4. Mai 1953)


Sonnets On Separation

I.

The time shall be, old Wisdom says, when you
Shall grow awrinkled and I, indifferent,
Shall no more follow the light steps I knew
Or trace you, finding out the way you went,
By swinging branches and the displaced flowers
Among the thickets. I no more shall stand,
With careful pencil through the adoring hours
Scratching your grace on paper. My still hand
No more shall tremble at the touch of yours
And I'll write no more songs and you'll not sing.
But this is all a lie, for love endures
And we shall closer kiss, remembering
How budding trees turned barren in the sun
Through this long week, whereof one day's now done.


II.

The time is all so short. One week is much
To be without your deep and peaceful eyes,
Your soft and all-contenting cheek, the touch
Of well-caressing hands. O were we wise
We would not love too strongly, would not bind
Life into life so inextricably,
That the dumb body suffers with the mind
In a sad partnership this agony.
For death will come and swallow up us two,
You there, I here, and we shall lie apart,
Out of the houses and the woods we knew.
Then in the lonely grave, my dust-choked heart
Out of the dust will raise, if it can speak,
A threnody for this lost, lovely week.


III.

Is there no prophylactic against love?
Can I with drugs not dull the ache one night?
The rain is heavy and the low clouds move
Over the empty home of our delight
And find me in it weeping. You are far
And you are now asleep. The night's so thick,
Not even one stooping and compassionate star
Shines on us both disparted. O be quick,
Torturing days and heavy, turn your hours
To minutes, melt yourselves into one day!
... The cold rain falls in swift assailing showers,
Darkness is round me and light far away.
I'm in our well-known room and you're shut in
By strange unfriendly walls I've never seen.


IV.

Lovers that drug themselves for ecstasy
Seek love too closely in an overdose,
When the sweet spasm turns to agony
And the quick limbs are still and the eyes close.
I too, a fool, desired--to make love strong--
Absence and parting but the measure's brimmed,
The dose is over-poured, the time's too long
Already, though two nights have hardly dimmed
My lonely eyes with the elusive sleep.
O I'll remember, I'll not wish again
To go with ardent limbs into this deep
Sea of dejection, this dull mere of pain:
We'll love our safer loves upon the shore
And quest for inexperienced joys no more.


V.

Through the closed curtains comes the early sun,
First a pale finger, preluding the hand.
Outside more certainly the day's begun,
Where bright and brighter still the chestnuts stand,
Broad candles lighting up at the first fire.
I stir and turn in my uneasy sleep
But in my sorrow sleep's my whole desire.
About the still room small lights move and creep
Silently, stealthily on wall and chair,
Till to strong rays and shining lights they grow,
Which with their magic change the waiting air
And all its sleeping motes to gold and throw
A golden radiance on your empty bed,
Which wakes me with vain likeness to your head.


VI.

To-morrow I shall see you come again
Between the pale trees, through the sullen gate,
Out of the dark and secret house of pain
Where lie the unhappy and unfortunate.
To-morrow you will live with me and love me,
Spring will go on again, I'll see the flowers
And little things, ridiculous things, shall move me
To smiles or tears or verse. The world is ours
To-morrow. Open heaths, tall trees, great skies,
With massive clouds that fly and come again,
Sweet fields, delicious rivers and the rise
And fall of swelling land from the swift train
We'll see together, knowing that all this
Is one great room wherein we two may kiss.


VII.

We're at the world's top now. The hills around
Stand proud in order with the valleys deep,
The hills with pastures drest, with tall trees crowned,
And the low valleys dipt in sunny sleep.
A sound brims all the country up, a noise
Of wheels upon the road and labouring bees
And trodden heather, mixing with the voice
Of small lost winds that die among the trees.
And we are prone beneath the flooding sun,
So drenched, so soaked in the unceasing light,
That colours, sounds and your close presence are one,
A texture woven up of all delight,
Whose shining threads my hands may not undo,
Yet one thread runs the whole bright garment through.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23310 Wed, 27 Aug 2014 18:14:32 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23310 1850 - 1894 Großbritannien / Samoa


I.

NOR judge me light, tho' light at times I seem,
And lightly in the stress of fortune bear
The innumerable flaws of changeful care -
Nor judge me light for this, nor rashly deem
(Office forbid to mortals, kept supreme
And separate the prerogative of God!)
That seaman idle who is borne abroad
To the far haven by the favouring stream.
Not he alone that to contrarious seas
Opposes, all night long, the unwearied oar,
Not he alone, by high success endeared,
Shall reach the Port; but, winged, with some light breeze
Shall they, with upright keels, pass in before
Whom easy Taste, the golden pilot, steered.

II.

So shall this book wax like unto a well,
Fairy with mirrored flowers about the brim,
Or like some tarn that wailing curlews skim,
Glassing the sallow uplands or brown fell;
And so, as men go down into a dell
(Weary with noon) to find relief and shade,
When on the uneasy sick-bed we are laid,
We shall go down into thy book, and tell
The leaves, once blank, to build again for us
Old summer dead and ruined, and the time
Of later autumn with the corn in stook.
So shalt thou stint the meagre winter thus
Of his projected triumph, and the rime
Shall melt before the sunshine in thy book.

III.

I have a hoard of treasure in my breast;
The grange of memory steams against the door,
Full of my bygone lifetime's garnered store -
Old pleasures crowned with sorrow for a zest,
Old sorrow grown a joy, old penance blest,
Chastened remembrance of the sins of yore
That, like a new evangel, more and more
Supports our halting will toward the best.
Ah! what to us the barren after years
May bring of joy or sorrow, who can tell?
O, knowing not, who cares? It may be well
That we shall find old pleasures and old fears,
And our remembered childhood seen thro' tears,
The best of Heaven and the worst of Hell.

IV.

As starts the absent dreamer when a train,
Suddenly disengulphed below his feet,
Roars forth into the sunlight, to its seat
My soul was shaken with immediate pain
Intolerable as the scanty breath
Of that one word blew utterly away
The fragile mist of fair deceit that lay
O'er the bleak years that severed me from death.
Yes, at the sight I quailed; but, not unwise
Or not, O God, without some nervous thread
Of that best valour, Patience, bowed my head,
And with firm bosom and most steadfast eyes,
Strong in all high resolve, prepared to tread
The unlovely path that leads me toward the skies.

V.

Not undelightful, friend, our rustic ease
To grateful hearts; for by especial hap,
Deep nested in the hill's enormous lap,
With its own ring of walls and grove of trees,
Sits, in deep shelter, our small cottage - nor
Far-off is seen, rose carpeted and hung
With clematis, the quarry whence she sprung,
O mater pulchra filia pulchrior,
Whither in early spring, unharnessed folk,
We join the pairing swallows, glad to stay
Where, loosened in the hills, remote, unseen,
From its tall trees, it breathes a slender smoke
To heaven, and in the noon of sultry day
Stands, coolly buried, to the neck in green.

VI.

As in the hostel by the bridge I sate,
Nailed with indifference fondly deemed complete,
And (O strange chance, more sorrowful than sweet)
The counterfeit of her that was my fate,
Dressed in like vesture, graceful and sedate,
Went quietly up the vacant village street,
The still small sound of her most dainty feet
Shook, like a trumpet blast, my soul's estate.
Instant revolt ran riot through my brain,
And all night long, thereafter, hour by hour,
The pageant of dead love before my eyes
Went proudly; and old hopes, broke loose again
From the restraint of wisely temperate power,
With ineffectual ardour sought to rise.

VII.

The strong man's hand, the snow-cool head of age,
The certain-footed sympathies of youth -
These, and that lofty passion after truth,
Hunger unsatisfied in priest or sage
Or the great men of former years, he needs
That not unworthily would dare to sing
(Hard task!) black care's inevitable ring
Settling with years upon the heart that feeds
Incessantly on glory. Year by year
The narrowing toil grows closer round his feet;
With disenchanting touch rude-handed time
The unlovely web discloses, and strange fear
Leads him at last to eld's inclement seat,
The bitter north of life - a frozen clime.

VIII.

As Daniel, bird-alone, in that far land,
Kneeling in fervent prayer, with heart-sick eyes
Turned thro' the casement toward the westering skies;
Or as untamed Elijah, that red brand
Among the starry prophets; or that band
And company of Faithful sanctities
Who in all times, when persecutions rise,
Cherish forgotten creeds with fostering hand:
Such do ye seem to me, light-hearted crew,
O turned to friendly arts with all your will,
That keep a little chapel sacred still,
One rood of Holy-land in this bleak earth
Sequestered still (our homage surely due!)
To the twin Gods of mirthful wine and mirth.]]> 1850 - 1894 Großbritannien / Samoa


I.

NOR judge me light, tho' light at times I seem,
And lightly in the stress of fortune bear
The innumerable flaws of changeful care -
Nor judge me light for this, nor rashly deem
(Office forbid to mortals, kept supreme
And separate the prerogative of God!)
That seaman idle who is borne abroad
To the far haven by the favouring stream.
Not he alone that to contrarious seas
Opposes, all night long, the unwearied oar,
Not he alone, by high success endeared,
Shall reach the Port; but, winged, with some light breeze
Shall they, with upright keels, pass in before
Whom easy Taste, the golden pilot, steered.

II.

So shall this book wax like unto a well,
Fairy with mirrored flowers about the brim,
Or like some tarn that wailing curlews skim,
Glassing the sallow uplands or brown fell;
And so, as men go down into a dell
(Weary with noon) to find relief and shade,
When on the uneasy sick-bed we are laid,
We shall go down into thy book, and tell
The leaves, once blank, to build again for us
Old summer dead and ruined, and the time
Of later autumn with the corn in stook.
So shalt thou stint the meagre winter thus
Of his projected triumph, and the rime
Shall melt before the sunshine in thy book.

III.

I have a hoard of treasure in my breast;
The grange of memory steams against the door,
Full of my bygone lifetime's garnered store -
Old pleasures crowned with sorrow for a zest,
Old sorrow grown a joy, old penance blest,
Chastened remembrance of the sins of yore
That, like a new evangel, more and more
Supports our halting will toward the best.
Ah! what to us the barren after years
May bring of joy or sorrow, who can tell?
O, knowing not, who cares? It may be well
That we shall find old pleasures and old fears,
And our remembered childhood seen thro' tears,
The best of Heaven and the worst of Hell.

IV.

As starts the absent dreamer when a train,
Suddenly disengulphed below his feet,
Roars forth into the sunlight, to its seat
My soul was shaken with immediate pain
Intolerable as the scanty breath
Of that one word blew utterly away
The fragile mist of fair deceit that lay
O'er the bleak years that severed me from death.
Yes, at the sight I quailed; but, not unwise
Or not, O God, without some nervous thread
Of that best valour, Patience, bowed my head,
And with firm bosom and most steadfast eyes,
Strong in all high resolve, prepared to tread
The unlovely path that leads me toward the skies.

V.

Not undelightful, friend, our rustic ease
To grateful hearts; for by especial hap,
Deep nested in the hill's enormous lap,
With its own ring of walls and grove of trees,
Sits, in deep shelter, our small cottage - nor
Far-off is seen, rose carpeted and hung
With clematis, the quarry whence she sprung,
O mater pulchra filia pulchrior,
Whither in early spring, unharnessed folk,
We join the pairing swallows, glad to stay
Where, loosened in the hills, remote, unseen,
From its tall trees, it breathes a slender smoke
To heaven, and in the noon of sultry day
Stands, coolly buried, to the neck in green.

VI.

As in the hostel by the bridge I sate,
Nailed with indifference fondly deemed complete,
And (O strange chance, more sorrowful than sweet)
The counterfeit of her that was my fate,
Dressed in like vesture, graceful and sedate,
Went quietly up the vacant village street,
The still small sound of her most dainty feet
Shook, like a trumpet blast, my soul's estate.
Instant revolt ran riot through my brain,
And all night long, thereafter, hour by hour,
The pageant of dead love before my eyes
Went proudly; and old hopes, broke loose again
From the restraint of wisely temperate power,
With ineffectual ardour sought to rise.

VII.

The strong man's hand, the snow-cool head of age,
The certain-footed sympathies of youth -
These, and that lofty passion after truth,
Hunger unsatisfied in priest or sage
Or the great men of former years, he needs
That not unworthily would dare to sing
(Hard task!) black care's inevitable ring
Settling with years upon the heart that feeds
Incessantly on glory. Year by year
The narrowing toil grows closer round his feet;
With disenchanting touch rude-handed time
The unlovely web discloses, and strange fear
Leads him at last to eld's inclement seat,
The bitter north of life - a frozen clime.

VIII.

As Daniel, bird-alone, in that far land,
Kneeling in fervent prayer, with heart-sick eyes
Turned thro' the casement toward the westering skies;
Or as untamed Elijah, that red brand
Among the starry prophets; or that band
And company of Faithful sanctities
Who in all times, when persecutions rise,
Cherish forgotten creeds with fostering hand:
Such do ye seem to me, light-hearted crew,
O turned to friendly arts with all your will,
That keep a little chapel sacred still,
One rood of Holy-land in this bleak earth
Sequestered still (our homage surely due!)
To the twin Gods of mirthful wine and mirth.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23006 Thu, 17 Apr 2014 19:53:13 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=23006 1862 - 1947

She stands full-throated and with careless pose,
This woman of a weird and waning race,
The tragic savage lurking in her face,
Where all her pagan passion burns and glows;

Her blood is mingled with her ancient foes,
And thrills with war and wildness in her veins;
Her rebel lips are dabbled with the stains
Of feuds and forays and her father's woes.

And closer in the shawl about her breast,
The latest promise of her nation's doom,
Paler than she her baby clings and lies,

The primal warrior gleaming from his eyes;
He sulks, and burdened with his infant gloom,
He draws his heavy brows and will not rest.]]> 1862 - 1947

She stands full-throated and with careless pose,
This woman of a weird and waning race,
The tragic savage lurking in her face,
Where all her pagan passion burns and glows;

Her blood is mingled with her ancient foes,
And thrills with war and wildness in her veins;
Her rebel lips are dabbled with the stains
Of feuds and forays and her father's woes.

And closer in the shawl about her breast,
The latest promise of her nation's doom,
Paler than she her baby clings and lies,

The primal warrior gleaming from his eyes;
He sulks, and burdened with his infant gloom,
He draws his heavy brows and will not rest.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22858 Sun, 16 Dec 2012 19:31:24 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=22858
TO THE RIVER ORWELL

ORWELL, delightful stream, whose waters flow
Fring'd with luxuriant beauty to the main !
Amid thy woodlands taught, the Muse could fain,
On thee, her grateful eulogy bestow.

Smooth and majestic though thy current glide,
And bustling Commerce plough thy liquid plain ;
Tho' grac'd with loveliness thy verdant side,
While all around enchantment seems to reign:

These glories still, with filial love, I taste,
And feel their praise; — yet thou hast one beside
To me more sweet ; for on thy banks reside,

Friendship and Truth combin'd; whose union chaste
Has sooth'd my soul ; — and these shall bloom sublime,
When fade thefleeting charms of Nature andof Time.]]>
TO THE RIVER ORWELL

ORWELL, delightful stream, whose waters flow
Fring'd with luxuriant beauty to the main !
Amid thy woodlands taught, the Muse could fain,
On thee, her grateful eulogy bestow.

Smooth and majestic though thy current glide,
And bustling Commerce plough thy liquid plain ;
Tho' grac'd with loveliness thy verdant side,
While all around enchantment seems to reign:

These glories still, with filial love, I taste,
And feel their praise; — yet thou hast one beside
To me more sweet ; for on thy banks reside,

Friendship and Truth combin'd; whose union chaste
Has sooth'd my soul ; — and these shall bloom sublime,
When fade thefleeting charms of Nature andof Time.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=20433 Wed, 09 May 2012 19:57:16 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=20433 1865 – 1933 Australien


In Memoriam Tranquillissimam

JOHN FARRELL.

Dead? I suppose so! And what does it matter
I sleep well, anyway - and what's the odds?
Isn't it perfect calm we give the gods?
And calm is best, in spite of all the chatter.
I don't know that I'd care to grow much fatter,
Duller and wearier - keep on pickling rods
To beat old age with. So, as who's-this nods,
The earlier end is better than the latter.

Besides, I've done my share of hurrying:
Let others take the pace - I won't be missed:
P'r'aps two or three will think of me - say one,
To save me from the fate of Tomlinson -
You know it? Fine thing? ... Well, I won't insist . .
Then that's all right - and what's the use of worrying?]]> 1865 – 1933 Australien


In Memoriam Tranquillissimam

JOHN FARRELL.

Dead? I suppose so! And what does it matter
I sleep well, anyway - and what's the odds?
Isn't it perfect calm we give the gods?
And calm is best, in spite of all the chatter.
I don't know that I'd care to grow much fatter,
Duller and wearier - keep on pickling rods
To beat old age with. So, as who's-this nods,
The earlier end is better than the latter.

Besides, I've done my share of hurrying:
Let others take the pace - I won't be missed:
P'r'aps two or three will think of me - say one,
To save me from the fate of Tomlinson -
You know it? Fine thing? ... Well, I won't insist . .
Then that's all right - and what's the use of worrying?]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=20432 Wed, 09 May 2012 19:51:45 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=20432 1865 – 1933 Australien


For Alice, In Autumn


Alice sits weeping in the garden chair.
Yet Love had poured for us a rosy chalice
That spills, alas! in ruin ... 'tis by malice
Of some sly deity who harbours there!

And as I stand, "Ah, please to go!" the fair
Sentinel lily hears, who bends her calice
Over the garden chair and weeping Alice.
Yet going, "Do not-leave-me!" thrills the air.

Wondering, I watch a sad cloud hide the sun:
A cloud - a mood-hint for a lover's part!
I'll clasp the soft hand by the lily sleeping.

It clings! A sudden ray gleams in the dun,
And leaps down gulfs of space to light my heart
Where, in the garden chair, Alice smiles weeping.]]> 1865 – 1933 Australien


For Alice, In Autumn


Alice sits weeping in the garden chair.
Yet Love had poured for us a rosy chalice
That spills, alas! in ruin ... 'tis by malice
Of some sly deity who harbours there!

And as I stand, "Ah, please to go!" the fair
Sentinel lily hears, who bends her calice
Over the garden chair and weeping Alice.
Yet going, "Do not-leave-me!" thrills the air.

Wondering, I watch a sad cloud hide the sun:
A cloud - a mood-hint for a lover's part!
I'll clasp the soft hand by the lily sleeping.

It clings! A sudden ray gleams in the dun,
And leaps down gulfs of space to light my heart
Where, in the garden chair, Alice smiles weeping.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=20431 Wed, 09 May 2012 19:42:06 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=20431 1865 – 1933 Australien


For A London Commercial

BY OUR REPORTER.

(In The Standard).

Wheat opened steady and unchanged, and developed a buoyant tone on firm cables, a bullish "Price Current Report," covering of shorts, and liberal export shipments. The market later declined on realising, sympathy in corn, and a slack export demand, and closed easy at 1/2 c. to 3/4 c. fall. Spot easy. - The Standard.


Wheat, for the anguish of the starving: - nay,
The market opens steadily, - but lean
And hark how at its verge cables sigh in
Determined. Ha! then buoyantly away;
For shorts are covered at the brink of day,
And export shipments tug upon the string
That sobs, while operators rise to sing
The Price Report is bullish! Do not stray:
On realising, prices downward creep;
There's sympathy in corn - all corn is grass,
And cool again the export side. Let be: -
Say nothing unto bulls for fear they weep
One to three-eighths cent. fall. - Close easy was;
Spot easy. (So is immortality).]]> 1865 – 1933 Australien


For A London Commercial

BY OUR REPORTER.

(In The Standard).

Wheat opened steady and unchanged, and developed a buoyant tone on firm cables, a bullish "Price Current Report," covering of shorts, and liberal export shipments. The market later declined on realising, sympathy in corn, and a slack export demand, and closed easy at 1/2 c. to 3/4 c. fall. Spot easy. - The Standard.


Wheat, for the anguish of the starving: - nay,
The market opens steadily, - but lean
And hark how at its verge cables sigh in
Determined. Ha! then buoyantly away;
For shorts are covered at the brink of day,
And export shipments tug upon the string
That sobs, while operators rise to sing
The Price Report is bullish! Do not stray:
On realising, prices downward creep;
There's sympathy in corn - all corn is grass,
And cool again the export side. Let be: -
Say nothing unto bulls for fear they weep
One to three-eighths cent. fall. - Close easy was;
Spot easy. (So is immortality).]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=20430 Wed, 09 May 2012 19:34:33 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=20430 1865 – 1933 Australien


Sonnets On The Burning Of G. Darrell's MS. Plays

Ye daughters of Australia, weep for George
Darrell! and mourn that desolating night
When heavy Austral drama was alight
And sparkling (One Night Only!) like a forge.
Perchance "The Mystery of the Melbourne Morgue"
That awful conflagration solved at sight:
Yea, the devouring element would bite
"The Haunted Hatter of the Gippsland Gorge!"

But Genius shall not perish from the earth!
"Villains, unhand her!" See it rise and ride,
One leaf above the pyre! a phoenix boon,
Bearing to distant shores in billionth birth
The deathless phrase that worship shall divide
In alien lands with idols of the moon.]]> 1865 – 1933 Australien


Sonnets On The Burning Of G. Darrell's MS. Plays

Ye daughters of Australia, weep for George
Darrell! and mourn that desolating night
When heavy Austral drama was alight
And sparkling (One Night Only!) like a forge.
Perchance "The Mystery of the Melbourne Morgue"
That awful conflagration solved at sight:
Yea, the devouring element would bite
"The Haunted Hatter of the Gippsland Gorge!"

But Genius shall not perish from the earth!
"Villains, unhand her!" See it rise and ride,
One leaf above the pyre! a phoenix boon,
Bearing to distant shores in billionth birth
The deathless phrase that worship shall divide
In alien lands with idols of the moon.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=20429 Wed, 09 May 2012 19:28:55 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=20429 1865 – 1933 Australien

The Last Camp

To H. C.

We found him where the empty river-bed
Ended his hope, and left him but to die -
Alone, unwatched, without one pitying sigh
To ease his parting; so his soul was sped.
And yet - it seemed so strange - his pillowed head
Lay quietly at rest, fronting the sky;
His mouth was smiling still, his brow held high;
Almost a man he looked, lying there dead.

The sun had burned him, storms had beaten him,
This nameless, ageless wanderer, who threw
His load of troubles down, willing to cease.
Since life had turned to him a face so grim
He smiled at death with the last breath he drew.
Grievous his struggle, but how grand his peace.]]> 1865 – 1933 Australien

The Last Camp

To H. C.

We found him where the empty river-bed
Ended his hope, and left him but to die -
Alone, unwatched, without one pitying sigh
To ease his parting; so his soul was sped.
And yet - it seemed so strange - his pillowed head
Lay quietly at rest, fronting the sky;
His mouth was smiling still, his brow held high;
Almost a man he looked, lying there dead.

The sun had burned him, storms had beaten him,
This nameless, ageless wanderer, who threw
His load of troubles down, willing to cease.
Since life had turned to him a face so grim
He smiled at death with the last breath he drew.
Grievous his struggle, but how grand his peace.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=19945 Fri, 21 Jan 2011 19:31:24 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=19945 James VI von Schottland
James I von England
1566 - 1625


THE ARGUMENT

GOD giues not Kings the stile of Gods in vaine,
For on his Throne his Scepter doe they swey:
And as their subjects ought them to obey,
So Kings should feare and serue their God againe
If then ye would enjoy a happie raigne,
Obserue the Statutes of your heauenly King,
And from his Law, make all your Lawes to spring:
Since his Lieutenant here ye should remain,
Reward the iust, be stedfast, true, and plaine+,
Represse the proud, maintayning aye the right,
Walke alwayes so, as euer in his sight,
Who guardes the godly, plaguing the prophane:
And so ye shall in Princely vertues shine,
Resembling right your mightie King Diuine.]]> James VI von Schottland
James I von England
1566 - 1625


THE ARGUMENT

GOD giues not Kings the stile of Gods in vaine,
For on his Throne his Scepter doe they swey:
And as their subjects ought them to obey,
So Kings should feare and serue their God againe
If then ye would enjoy a happie raigne,
Obserue the Statutes of your heauenly King,
And from his Law, make all your Lawes to spring:
Since his Lieutenant here ye should remain,
Reward the iust, be stedfast, true, and plaine+,
Represse the proud, maintayning aye the right,
Walke alwayes so, as euer in his sight,
Who guardes the godly, plaguing the prophane:
And so ye shall in Princely vertues shine,
Resembling right your mightie King Diuine.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=19944 Fri, 21 Jan 2011 18:55:53 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=19944 James VI von Schottland
James I von England
1566 - 1625


THE azur'd vaulte, the crystall circles bright,
The gleaming fyrie torches powdred there,
The changing round, the shynie beamie light,
The sad and bearded fyres, the monsters faire;
The prodiges appearing in the aire,
The rearding thunders, and the blustering windes,
The fowles in hew, in shape, in nature raire,
The prettie notes that wing'd musiciens finds;
In earth the sau'rie flowres, the mettal'd minds,
The wholesome hearbes, the hautie pleasant trees,
The syluer streames, the beasts of sundrie kinds;
The bounded waves, and fishes of the seas:
All these for teaching man the Lord did frame,
To do his will whose glorie shines in thame.]]> James VI von Schottland
James I von England
1566 - 1625


THE azur'd vaulte, the crystall circles bright,
The gleaming fyrie torches powdred there,
The changing round, the shynie beamie light,
The sad and bearded fyres, the monsters faire;
The prodiges appearing in the aire,
The rearding thunders, and the blustering windes,
The fowles in hew, in shape, in nature raire,
The prettie notes that wing'd musiciens finds;
In earth the sau'rie flowres, the mettal'd minds,
The wholesome hearbes, the hautie pleasant trees,
The syluer streames, the beasts of sundrie kinds;
The bounded waves, and fishes of the seas:
All these for teaching man the Lord did frame,
To do his will whose glorie shines in thame.]]>