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Clive Hamilton
Born
in The United Kingdom
November 29, 1898
Died
November 22, 1963
Genre
|
Spirits in Bondage: A Cycle of Lyrics
by
—
published
1919
—
143 editions
|
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* Note: these are all the books on Goodreads for this author. To add more, click here.
“That music could have crumbled proud belief
With doubt, or in the bosom of the sage
Madden the heart that had outmastered grief,
And flood with tears the eyes of frozen age
And turn the young man's feet to pilgrimage -
So sharp it was, so sure a path it found,
Soulward with stabbing wounds of bitter sound.
- Dymer, Canto I, v. 24”
―
With doubt, or in the bosom of the sage
Madden the heart that had outmastered grief,
And flood with tears the eyes of frozen age
And turn the young man's feet to pilgrimage -
So sharp it was, so sure a path it found,
Soulward with stabbing wounds of bitter sound.
- Dymer, Canto I, v. 24”
―
“Thank God that there are solid folk
Who water flowers and roll the lawn,
And sit an sew and talk and smoke,
And snore all through the summer dawn.
Who pass untroubled nights and days
Full-fed and sleepily content,
Rejoicing in each other's praise,
Respectable and innocent.”
― Spirits in Bondage: A Cycle of Lyrics
Who water flowers and roll the lawn,
And sit an sew and talk and smoke,
And snore all through the summer dawn.
Who pass untroubled nights and days
Full-fed and sleepily content,
Rejoicing in each other's praise,
Respectable and innocent.”
― Spirits in Bondage: A Cycle of Lyrics
“Last night I dreamed that I was come again
Unto the house where my beloved dwells
After long years of wandering and pain.
And I stood out beneath the drenching rain
And all the street was bare, and black with night,
But in my true love's house was warmth and light.
Yet I could not draw near nor enter in,
And long I wondered if some secret sin
Or old, unhappy anger held me fast;
Till suddenly it came into my head
That I was killed long since and lying dead—
Only a homeless wraith that way had passed.”
― Spirits in Bondage: A Cycle of Lyrics
Unto the house where my beloved dwells
After long years of wandering and pain.
And I stood out beneath the drenching rain
And all the street was bare, and black with night,
But in my true love's house was warmth and light.
Yet I could not draw near nor enter in,
And long I wondered if some secret sin
Or old, unhappy anger held me fast;
Till suddenly it came into my head
That I was killed long since and lying dead—
Only a homeless wraith that way had passed.”
― Spirits in Bondage: A Cycle of Lyrics
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