Victor Hugo.

He set the trumpet to his lips, and lo!
The clash of waves, the roar of winds that blow,
The strife and stress of Nature's warring things,
Rose like a storm-cloud, upon angry wings.

He set the reed-pipe to his lips, and lo!
The wreck of landscape took a rosy glow,
And Life, and Love, and gladness that Love brings
Laughed in the music, like a child that sings.

Master of each, Arch-Master! We that still
Wait in the verge and outskirt of the Hill
Look upward lonely--lonely to the height
Where thou has climbed, for ever, out of sight!

Henry Austin Dobson

Henry Austin Dobson, commonly known as Austin Dobson, was an English poet and essayist. A civil servant by profession, Dobson was one of the most renowned poets and literary critics of the late Victorian and Edwardian periods. His work is noted for its delicate craftsmanship and profound interest in 18th-century literature. Dobson's poetry often revisited and celebrated historical themes and characters, blending scholarly interest with lyrical form.

Henry Austin Dobson

A Miltonic Exercise

Henry Austin Dobson, Simple Poetry

To A Child.

Henry Austin Dobson, Simple Poetry

The Last Despatch.

Henry Austin Dobson, Simple Poetry

A Fairy Tale.

Henry Austin Dobson, 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.

Prelude To "The Songs Of Twilight."

("De quel non te nommer?")

[PRELUDE, a, Oct. 20, 1835.]


How shall I note thee, line of troubled years,
Which mark existence in our little span?
One constant twilight in the heaven appears -
One constant twilight in the mind of man!

Creed, hope, anticipation and despair,
Are but a mingling, as of day and night;
The globe, surrounded by deceptive air,
Is all enveloped in the same half-light.

And voice is deadened by the evening breeze,
The shepherd's song, or maiden's in her bower,
Mix with the rustling of the neighboring trees,
Within whose foliage is lulled the power.

Yet all unites! The winding path that leads
Thro' fields where verdure meets the trav'ller's eye.
The river's margin, blurred with wavy reeds,
The ...

Victor-Marie Hugo

Gastibelza.

("Gastibelza, l'homme à la carabine.")

[XXII., March, 1837.]


Gastibelza, with gun the measure beating,
    Would often sing:
"Has one o' ye with sweet Sabine been meeting,
    As, gay, ye bring
Your songs and steps which, by the music,
    Are reconciled -
Oh! this chill wind across the mountain rushing
    Will drive me wild!

"You stare as though you hardly knew my lady -
    Sabine's her name!
Her dam inhabits yonder cavern shady,
    A witch of shame,
Who shrieks o' nights upon the Haunted Tower,
    With horrors piled -
Oh! this chill wind, etc.

"Sing on and leap - enjoying all the favors
    Good heaven sends;
She, too, was young - her lips had peachy savors
    With honey blends;
Give to that ...

Victor-Marie Hugo

The Swiss Mercenaries.

("Lorsque le regiment des hallebardiers.")

[Bk. XXXI.]


When the regiment of Halberdiers
Is proudly marching by,
The eagle of the mountain screams
From out his stormy sky;
Who speaketh to the precipice,
And to the chasm sheer;
Who hovers o'er the thrones of kings,
And bids the caitiffs fear.
King of the peak and glacier,
King of the cold, white scalps -
He lifts his head, at that close tread,
The eagle of the Alps.

O shame! those men that march below -
O ignominy dire!
Are the sons of my free mountains
Sold for imperial hire.
Ah! the vilest in the dungeon!
Ah! the slave upon the seas -
Is great, is pure, is glorious,
Is grand compared with these,
Who, born amid my holy rocks,
In solemn places hig...

Victor-Marie Hugo

The Trumpets Of The Mind.

("Sonnez, clairons de la pensée!")

[Bk. VII. i., March 19, 1853.]


Sound, sound for ever, Clarions of Thought!

When Joshua 'gainst the high-walled city fought,
He marched around it with his banner high,
His troops in serried order following nigh,
But not a sword was drawn, no shaft outsprang,
Only the trumpets the shrill onset rang.
At the first blast, smiled scornfully the king,
And at the second sneered, half wondering:
"Hop'st thou with noise my stronghold to break down?"
At the third round, the ark of old renown
Swept forward, still the trumpets sounding loud,
And then the troops with ensigns waving proud.
Stepped out upon the old walls children dark
With horns to mock the notes and hoot the ark.
At the fourth turn, braving th...

Victor-Marie Hugo

My Napoleon.

("Toujours lui! lui partout!")

[XL., December, 1828.]


Above all others, everywhere I see
His image cold or burning!
My brain it thrills, and oftentime sets free
The thoughts within me yearning.
My quivering lips pour forth the words
That cluster in his name of glory -
The star gigantic with its rays of swords
Whose gleams irradiate all modern story.

I see his finger pointing where the shell
Should fall to slay most rabble,
And save foul regicides; or strike the knell
Of weaklings 'mid the tribunes' babble.
A Consul then, o'er young but proud,
With midnight poring thinned, and sallow,
But dreams of Empire pierce the transient cloud,
And round pale face and lank locks form the halo.

And soon the Caesar, with an eye ...

Victor-Marie Hugo

Victor Hugo.

    Victor the King! alive to-day, not dead!
    Behold, I bring thee with a subject's hand
    A poor pale wreath, the best at my command,
    But all unfit to deck so grand a head.
    It is the outcome of a neighbour land
    Denounced of thee, and spurn'd for many years.
    It is the token of a nation's tears
    Which oft has joy'd in thee, and shall again.
    Love for thy hate, applause for thy disdain, -
    These are the flowers we spread upon thy hearse.
    We give thee back, to-day, thy poet-curse;
    We call thee friend; we ratify thy reign.
    Kings change their sceptres for a funeral stone,
    But thou hast turn'd thy tomb into a throne!

Eric Mackay