Quote

Have you never, when waves were breaking, watched children at sport on the beach, With their little feet tempting the foam-fringe, till with stronger and further reach Than they dreamed of, a billow comes bursting, how they turn and scamper and screech!

Alfred Austin

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Alfred Austin
Age: 78 †
Born: 1835
Born: May 30
Died: 1913
Died: June 2
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Littles
Stronger
Waves
Little
Feet
Watched
Billow
Children
Turn
Breaking
Screech
Never
Sports
Beach
Foam
Turns
Sport
Bursting
Comes
Till
Tempting
Inspirational
Wave
Fringe
Kids
Reach
Dreamed

More quotes by Alfred Austin

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No verse which is unmusical or obscure can be regarded as poetry whatever other qualities it may possess.
Alfred Austin
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Is life worth living? Yes, so long as there is wrong to right. So long as faith with freedom reigns and loyal hope survives, And gracious charity remains to leaven lowly lives While there is only one untrodden tract for intellect or will, And men are free to think and act, Life is worth living still.
Alfred Austin
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Falling stars are high examples sent To warn, not lure. Gross fancy says they are Substantial meteors but that is not so. They are the merest phantasies of Night, When she's asleep, and, dimly visited By past effects, she dreams of Lucifer Hurled out of Heaven.
Alfred Austin
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From sunny woof and cloudy weft Fell rain in sheets so, to myself I hummed these hazard rhymes, and left The learned volume on the shelf.
Alfred Austin
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We come from the earth, we return to the earth, and in between we garden.
Alfred Austin
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Though my verse but roam the air And murmur in the trees, You may discern a purpose there, As in music of the bees.
Alfred Austin
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There is no gardening without humility. Nature is constantly sending even its oldest scholars to the bottom of the class for some egregious blunder.
Alfred Austin
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Doth Nature draw me, 'tis because, Unto my seeming, there doth lurk A lawlessness about her laws, More mood than purpose in her work.
Alfred Austin
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Is life worth living? Yes, so long As Spring revives the year, And hails us with the cuckoo's song, To show that she is here.
Alfred Austin
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Where has thou been all the dumb winter days When neither sunlight was nor smile of flowers, Neither life, nor love, nor frolic, Only expanse melancholic, With never a note of thy exhilarating lays?
Alfred Austin
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No one can rightly call his garden his own unless he himself made it.
Alfred Austin
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Perhaps a maiden's bashfulness is more A matron's lesson than our lips aver.
Alfred Austin
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Pale January lay In its cradle day by day Dead or living, hard to say.
Alfred Austin
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Tis true among fields and woods I sing, Aloof from cities--that my poor strains Were born, like the simple flowers you bring, In English meadows and English lanes.
Alfred Austin
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In my song you catch at times Note sweeter far than mine, And in the tangle of my rhymes Can scent the eglantine.
Alfred Austin
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In vain would science scan and trace Firmly her aspect. All the while, There gleams upon her far-off face A vague unfathomable smile.
Alfred Austin
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Imagination in poetry, as distinguished from mere fancy is the transfiguring of the real or actual to the ideal.
Alfred Austin
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Alfred Austin said, Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are.
Alfred Austin
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Faded smiles oft linger in the face, While grief's first flakes fall silent on the heart!
Alfred Austin
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Life seems like a haunted wood, where we tremble and crouch and cry.
Alfred Austin