The Sonnet King.

    O Petrarch! I am here. I bow to thee,
    Great king of sonnets, thronèd long ago
    And lover-like, as Love enjoineth me,
    And miser-like, enamoured of my woe,
    I reckon up my teardrops as they flow.
    I would not lose the power to shed a tear
    For all the wealth of Plutus and his reign.
    I would not be so base as not complain
    When she I love is absent from my sight.
    No, not for all the marvels of the night,
    And all the varying splendours of the year.
    Do thou assist me, thou! that art the light
    Of all true lovers' souls, in all the sphere,
    To make a May-time of my sorrows slain.

Eric Mackay

Eric Mackay, born on June 1, 1851, was a noted English poet whose work gained recognition in the late 19th century. He is best known for his sonnets and lyrical poetry, which were celebrated for their emotional depth and technical mastery. His most famous work, 'Love Letters of a Violinist,' was well-received during his lifetime. Mackay's contributions to English literature have been acknowledged for their artistic merit. He passed away on June 8, 1898.

Eric Mackay

My Amazon.

Eric Mackay, Simple Poetry

A Lover's Litanies - First Litany. Virgo Dulcis.

Eric Mackay, Simple Poetry

Byron.

Eric Mackay, Simple Poetry

Pro Patria. An Ode To Swinburne.

Eric Mackay, 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.

A Lover's Litanies - Third Litany. Ad Te Clamavi.

i.

Again, O Love! again I make lament,
    And, Arab-like, I pitch my summer-tent
Outside the gateways of the Lord of Song.
I weep and wait, contented all day long
To be the proud possessor of a grief.
It comforts me. It gives me more relief
    Than pleasures give; and, spirit-like in air,
It re-invokes the peace that was so brief.


ii.

It speaks of thee. It keeps me from the lake
    Which else might tempt me; and for thy sweet sake
I shun all evil. I am calmer now
Than when I wooed thee, calmer than the vow
Which made me thine, and yet so fond withal
I start and tremble at the wind's footfall.
    Is it the wind? Or is it mine own past
Come back to life to lure me to its thrall?


iii.

I long to rise and...

Eric Mackay

A Lover's Litanies - Second Litany. Vox Amorís.[1]

i.

Vouchsafe, my Lady! by the passion-flower,
    And by the glamour of a moonlit hour,
And by the cries and sighs of all the birds
That sing o'nights, to heed again the words
Of my poor pleading! For I swear to thee
My love is deeper than the bounding sea,
    And more conclusive than a wedding-bell,
And freer-voiced than winds upon the lea.

[Footnote 1: This Litany was introduced in the Author's "Gladys the Singer," published by Messrs. Reeves & Turner, London, 1887.]


ii.

In all the world, from east unto the west,
    There is no vantage-ground, and little rest,
And no content for me from dawn to dark,
From set of sun to song-time of the lark,
And yet, withal, there is no man alive
Who for a goodly cause to make it thrive,

Eric Mackay

Beethoven At The Piano.



Beethoven At The Piano.


I.

    See where Beethoven sits alone - a dream of days elysian,
    A crownless king upon a throne, reflected in a vision -
    The man who strikes the potent chords which make the world, in wonder,
    Acknowledge him, though poor and dim, the mouthpiece of the thunder.


II.

    He feels the music of the skies the while his heart is breaking;
    He sings the songs of Paradise, where love has no forsak...

Eric Mackay

Love's Defeat.

    Do what I will, I cannot chant so well
    As other men; and yet my soul is true.
    My hopes are bold; my thoughts are hard to tell,
    But thou can'st read them, and accept them, too,
    Though, half-abash'd, they seem to hide from view.
    I strike the lyre, I sound the hollow shell;
    And why? For comfort, when my thoughts rebel,
    And when I count the woes that must ensue.
    But for this reason, and no other one,
    I dare to look thy way, and bow my head
    To thy sweet name, as sunflower to the sun,
    Though, peradventure, not so wisely fed
    With garden fancies. Tears must now be shed,
    Unnumber'd tears, till life or love be done!

Eric Mackay

A Lover's Litanies - Fourth Litany. Gratia Plena.

i.

Oh, smile on me, thou syren of my soul!
    That I may curb my thoughts to some control
And not offend thee, as in truth I do,
Morning, and noon and night, when I pursue
My vagrant fancies, unallow'd of thee,
But fraught with such consolement unto me
    As may be felt in homeward-sailing ships
When wind and wave contend upon the sea.


ii.

Dower me with patience and imbue me still
    With some reminder, when the night is chill,
Of thy dear presence, as, in winter-time,
The maiden moon, that tenderly doth climb
The lofty heavens, hath yet a beam to spare
For doleful wretches in their dungeon-lair;
    E'en thus endow me in my chamber dim
With some reminder of thy face so fair!


iii.

Quit thou thy body w...

Eric Mackay

Sonnet CXXXI.

Or che 'l ciel e la terra e 'l vento tace.

NIGHT BRINGS PEACE TO ALL SAVE HIM.


    O'er earth and sky her lone watch silence keeps,
And bird and beast in stirless slumber lie,
Her starry chariot Night conducts on high,
And in its bed the waveless ocean sleeps.
I wake, muse, burn, and weep; of all my pain
The one sweet cause appears before me still;
War is my lot, which grief and anger fill,
And thinking but of her some rest I gain.
Thus from one bright and living fountain flows
The bitter and the sweet on which I feed;
One hand alone can harm me or can heal:
And thus my martyrdom no limit knows,
A thousand deaths and lives each day I feel,
So distant are the paths to peace which lead.

MACGREGOR.


    'Tis now the ...

Francesco Petrarca