Dinah Maria Mulock Craik: Все стихи поэта

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A Child’s Smile

A CHILD'S smile--nothing more;

Quiet, and soft, and grave, and seldom seen;

Like summer lightning o'er,

Leaving the little face again serene.

I think, boy well-beloved,

Thine angel, who did grieve to see how far

Thy childhood is removed

From sports that dear to other children are,

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

Lettice

I said to Lettice, our sister Lettice,

While drooped and glistened her eyelash brown,

"Your man's a poor man, a cold and dour man,

There's many a better about our town."

She smiled securely - "He loves me purely:

A true heart's safe, both in smile or frown;

And nothing harms me while his love warms me,

Whether the world go up or down."

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

A Man’s Wooing

YOU said, last night, you did not think

In all the world of men

Was one true lover--true alike

In deed and word and pen;--

One knightly lover, constant as

The old knights, who sleep sound:

Some women, said you, there might be--

Not one man faithful found:

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

The Unknown Country

WHERE is the unknown country?"

I whispered sad and slow,--

"The strange and awful country

To which I soon must go, must go,

To which I soon must go?"

Out of the unknown country

A voice sang soft and low:--

"O pleasant is that country

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

Too Late "Dowglas, Dowglas, Tendir And Treu"

Could ye come back to me, Douglas, Douglas,

In the old likeness that I knew,

I would be so faithful, so loving, Douglas,

Douglas, Douglas, tender and true.

Never a scornful word should grieve ye,

I'd smile on ye sweet as the angels do:

Sweet as your smile on me shone ever,

Douglas, Douglas, tender and true.

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

A Lancashire Doxology

"PRAISE God from whom all blessings flow."

Praise Him who sendeth joy and woe.

The Lord who takes, — the Lord who gives, —

O praise Him, all that dies, and lives.

He opens and He shuts his hand,

But why, we cannot understand:

Pours and dries up his mercies' flood,

And yet is still All-perfect Good.

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

Mortality

"And we shall be changed.""And we shall be changed."

Ye dainty mosses, lichens grey,

Pressed each to each in tender fold,

And peacefully thus, day by day,

Returning to their mould;

Brown leaves, that with aerial grace

Slip from your branch like birds a-wing,

Each leaving in the appointed place

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

Resigning

"Poor heart, what bitter words we speak

When God speaks of resigning!"

Children, that lay their pretty garlands by

So piteously, yet with a humble mind;

Sailors, who, when their ship rocks in the wind,

Cast out her freight with half-averted eye,

Riches for life exchanging solemnly,

Lest they should never gain the wished-for shore;—

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

In Our Boat

Stars trembling o'er us and sunset before us,

Mountains in shadow and forests asleep;

Down the dim river we float on forever,

Speak not, ah, breathe not - there's peace on the deep.

Come not, pale sorrow, flee till to-morrow;

Rest softly falling o'er eyelids that weep;

While down the river we float on forever,

Speak not, ah, breathe not - there's peace on the deep.

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

The Human Temple

The Temple in Darkness

Darkness broods upon the temple,

Glooms along the lonely aisles,

Fills up all the orient window,

Whence, like little children’s wiles,

Shadows—purple, azure, golden—

Broke upon the floor in smiles.

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

The House of Clay

THERE was a house, a house of clay,

Wherein the inmate sat all day,

Merry and poor;

For Hope sat with her, heart to heart,

Fond and kind, fond and kind,

Vowing he never would depart, —

Till all at once he changed his mind:

"Sweetheart, good by!" He slipped away

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

"Philip, My King"

Look at me with thy large brown eyes,

Philip, my king!

Round whom the enshadowing purple lies

Of babyhood's royal dignities.

Lay on my neck thy tiny hand

With love's invisible scepter laden;

I am thine Esther to command

Till thou shalt find a queen-handmaiden,

by Dinah Maria Mulock Craik