ALFRED AUSTIN QUOTES

English poet (1835-1913)

Alfred Austin quote

We are all alike, and we love to keep passion aglow at our feet,
Like one that sitteth in shade and complacently smiles at the heat.

ALFRED AUSTIN, "A Woman's Apology", Soliloquies in Song

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Tags: passion


Show me your garden, provided it be your own, and I will tell you what you are like.

ALFRED AUSTIN, The Garden that I Love

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Tags: gardening


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, "A Spring Carol", Soliloquies in Song

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Why from the plain truth should I shrink?
In woods men feel; in towns they think.
Yet, which is best? 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.
But feeling never wanders far,
Content to fare with things that are.

ALFRED AUSTIN, "A Defence of English Spring", Lyrical Poems

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So, timely you came, and well you chose,
You came when most needed, my winter rose.
From the snow I pluck you, and fondly press
Your leaves 'twixt the leaves of my leaflessness.

ALFRED AUSTIN, "My Winter Rose", Lyrical Poems

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Tags: roses


He is dead already who doth not feel
Life is worth living still.

ALFRED AUSTIN, "Is Life Worth Living?", Lyrical Poems

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Life seems like a haunted wood, where we tremble and crouch and cry.

ALFRED AUSTIN, "A Woman's Apology", Soliloquies in Song

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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, "A Woman's Apology", Soliloquies in Song

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Tags: children


Your voice would have silenced merle and thrush,
And the rose outbloomed would have blushed to blush,
And Summer, seeing you, paused, and known
That the glow of your beauty outshone its own.

ALFRED AUSTIN, "My Winter Rose", Lyrical Poems

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Tags: beauty


'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, prelude, Soliloquies in Song

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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, "A Birthday", Lyrical Poems

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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, "Nature and the Book", At the Gate of the Convent and Other Poems

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No verse which is unmusical or obscure can be regarded as poetry whatever other qualities it may possess.

ALFRED AUSTIN, The Bridling of Pegasus: Prose Papers on Poetry

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A garden that one makes oneself becomes associated with one's personal history and that of one's friends, interwoven with one's tastes, preferences, and character, and constitutes a sort of unwritten, but withal manifest autobiography.

ALFRED AUSTIN, The Garden that I Love

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Faded smiles oft linger in the face,
While grief's first flakes fall silent on the heart!

ALFRED AUSTIN, "Unseasonable Snows", Soliloquies in Song

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Tags: grief


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, Savonarola

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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, "Nature and the Book", At the Gate of the Convent and Other Poems

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Perhaps a maiden's bashfulness is more
A matron's lesson than our lips aver.

ALFRED AUSTIN, Madonna's Child

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Now frowns the sky, the air bites bleak,
The young boughs rock, the old trunks creak,
And fast before the following gale
Come slanting drops, then slashing hail,
As keen as sword, as thick as shot.
Nay, do not cower, but heed them not!
For these one neither flies nor stirs;
They are but April skirmishers,
Thrown out to cover the advance
Of gleaming spear and glittering lance,
With which the sunshine scours amain
Heaven, earth, and air, and routs the rain.

ALFRED AUSTIN, "A Defence of English Spring", Lyrical Poems

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No one can rightly call his garden his own unless he himself made it.

ALFRED AUSTIN, The Garden that I Love

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