Symbols

Tis said that the Passion Flower,
With its figures of spear and sword
And hammer and nails, is a symbol
Of the Woe of our Blessed Lord.

So still in the Heart of Beauty
Has been hidden, since Life drew breath,
The sword and the spear of Anguish,
And the hammer and nails of Death.

Victor James Daley

Victor James Daley, born on 5 September 1858, was an Australian poet noted for his lyrical works. Daley’s publications, including his collection of poems

Victor James Daley

Life

Victor James Daley, Simple Poetry

The Dove

Victor James Daley, Simple Poetry

The Poet Care

Victor James Daley, Simple Poetry

Love-Laurel

Victor James Daley, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

Symbols

A storm beaten old watch-tower,
A blind hermit rings the hour.
All-destroying sword-blade still
Carried by the wandering fool.
Gold-sewn silk on the sword-blade,
Beauty and fool together laid.

William Butler Yeats

Symbols

I watched a rosebud very long
    Brought on by dew and sun and shower,
    Waiting to see the perfect flower:
Then, when I thought it should be strong,
    It opened at the matin hour
And fell at evensong.

I watched a nest from day to day,
    A green nest full of pleasant shade,
    Wherein three speckled eggs were laid:
But when they should have hatched in May,
    The two old birds had grown afraid
Or tired, and flew away.

Then in my wrath I broke the bough
    That I had tended so with care,
    Hoping its scent should fill the air;
I crushed the eggs, not heeding how
    Their ancient promise had been fair:
I would have vengeance now.

But the dead branch spoke from the sod,
    And the eggs answered me again:
    Bec...

Christina Georgina Rossetti

The Travail Of Passion

When the flaming lute-thronged angelic door is wide;
When an immortal passion breathes in mortal clay;
Our hearts endure the scourge, the plaited thorns, the way
Crowded with bitter faces, the wounds in palm and side,
The hyssop-heavy sponge, the flowers by Kidron stream:
We will bend down and loosen our hair over you,
That it may drop faint perfume, and be heavy with dew,
Lilies of death-pale hope, roses of passionate dream.

William Butler Yeats

A Symbol.

The mason's trade        Observe them well,

Resembles life,        And watch them revealing

With all its strife,        How solemn feeling
Is like the stir made        And wonderment swell

By man on earth's face.        The hearts of the brave.

Though weal and woe        The voice of the blest,

The future may hide,        And of spirits on high

Unterrified        Seems loudly to cry:
We onward go        "To do what is best,

In ne'er changing race.        Unceasing endeavour!

A veil of dread        "In silence eterne

Hangs heavier still.        Here chaplets are twin'd,

Deep slumbers fill        That each noble mind
The stars over-head,        Its guerdon may earn.

And the foot-trodden grave.        Then h...

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

A Thought

There never was a valley without a faded flower,
There never was a heaven without some little cloud;
The face of day may flash with light in any morning hour,
But evening soon shall come with her shadow-woven shroud.

There never was a river without its mists of gray,
There never was a forest without its fallen leaf;
And joy may walk beside us down the windings of our way,
When, lo! there sounds a footstep, and we meet the face of grief.

There never was a seashore without its drifting wreck,
There never was an ocean without its moaning wave;
And the golden gleams of glory the summer sky that fleck,
Shine where dead stars are sleeping in their azure-mantled grave.

There never was a streamlet, however crystal clear,
Without a shadow resting in the ripples of i...

Abram Joseph Ryan

Passion Flower

Choose who will the wiser part,
I have held her heart to heart;

And have felt her heart-strings stirred,
And her souls still singing heard

For one golden-haloed hour
Of Loves life the passion-flower.

So the world may roll or rest,
I have tasted of its best;

And shall laugh while I have breath
At thy dart and thee, O Death!

Victor James Daley