Quote

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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Alfred Austin
Age: 78 †
Born: 1835
Born: May 30
Died: 1913
Died: June 2
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Writer
Purpose
Verse
May
Verses
Music
Bees
Trees
Air
Poetry
Murmur
Tree
Roam
Though
Discern

More quotes by Alfred Austin

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He is dead already who doth not feel Life is worth living still.
Alfred Austin
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The glory of gardening: hands in the dirt, head in the sun, heart with nature. To nurture a garden is to feed not just on the body, but the soul. Share the botanical bliss of gardeners through the ages, who have cultivated philosophies to apply to their own - and our own - lives: Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are.
Alfred Austin
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My virgin sense of sound was steeped In the music of young streams And roses through the casement peeped, And scented all my dreams.
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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Through the dripping weeks that follow One another slow, and soak Summer's extinguished fire and autumn's drifting smoke.
Alfred Austin
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Tears are summer showers to the soul.
Alfred Austin
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Thought, stumbling, plods Past fallen temples, vanished gods, Altars unincensed, fanes undecked, Eternal systems flown or wrecked Through trackless centuries that grant To the poor trudge refreshment scant, Age after age, pants on to find A melting mirage of the mind.
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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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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Alfred Austin said, Show me your garden and I shall tell you what you are.
Alfred Austin
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If Nature built by rule and square, Than man what wiser would she be? What wins us is her careless care, And sweet unpunctuality.
Alfred Austin
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Life seems like a haunted wood, where we tremble and crouch and cry.
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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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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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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No verse which is unmusical or obscure can be regarded as poetry whatever other qualities it may possess.
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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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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The bright incarnate spirit of the Morn.
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