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Gerald Massey

Gerald Massey

One of Shakespeare’s Women

I sometimes think that Shakespeare has revealed
To me that very self so long concealed:
But if his soul my soul has lightened through,
I sometimes think it was to gaze on you,
To find, with loving wonder in his looks,
One of his Women living out of his Books!

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Autres oeuvres par Gerald Massey...
When Christie Comes Again

WHEN the merry spring-tide Floods all the land; Nature hath a Mother’s heart, Gives with open hand; Flowers running up the lane
A Cry in the Night

Dark, dark the night, and tearfull… Lost in the Shadows, feeling for… But cannot find it. Here’s no hel… And God is very far off with His… Hush, hush, faint heart! why this…
Souls of Animals

Such look of an immortal likeness… At times into the eyes of dear dum… As if Hereafter we must recognize The Unknown Life that knew us in…
Egypt

Egypt! how I have dwelt with you… So long, so intimately, that it se… As if you had borne me; though I… It was so many thousand years ago! And in my gropings darkly undergro…
Sleep-Walking

Oft in the night I am with you, D… I lean and listen your breathing t… Little you dream of any one near. No one knoweth that I am gone; Curtains closely about me drawn,
Growing Old

The stream of Life that brimmed i… We drain to gather Wisdom’s grain… And often as we count the riches o… Half wish our wealth were drowned…
 1
The Nabob's Double

HAS Man a spirit that’s more tha… A spirit that walks in sleep or in… Shakes off at will its dust of the… And, waking by night, goes wanderi… To work its wish with a noiseless…
The Divine Likeness

SPIRIT Divine, we yearn and str… Within our souls to keep alive Some likeness of Thy love! But 'tis at best a glimpse, a glea… Uncertain as a troubled stream
Desolate

The Day goes down red darkling, The moaning waves dash out the lig… And there is not a star of hope sp… On the threshold of my night. Wild winds of Autumn go wailing
 1
Christie's Portrait

Your tiny picture makes me yearn; We are so far apart! My Darling, I can only turn And kiss you in my heart. A thousand tender thoughts a-wing
A Winter's Tale for the Little Ones

A MERRY sound of clapping hands… A call to see the sight; And lo! the first soft snow-flakes… So exquisitely virginal: 'Tis my wee Nell at window stands…
True Poets

TRUE Poets conquer Glory—do not… It; do not beg their way to Fame; Nor at her skirts in private bend… Nor sow the public broadcast with… They are the great High Priests o…
Womankind

Dear things! we would not have you… Your Ignorance is so charming! We… That greater knowledge might not l… Sure aid to blind obedience and de…
So It Goes

The tender green that laughs out i… And drinks the freshness of the de… Must take the cloud of dust that t… And burnish every tiny blade again… The river into which heaven cometh…
Faith and Fact

THERE is no gleam of glory gone, For those who read in Nature’s Bo… No lack of triumph in their look Who stand in Her Eternal Dawn. Friends of a failing Faith! while…



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