A Practical Discourse on some Priciples of Hymn-singing Collected Essays no 22.
Poetry's magic lies in the imagery which satifies even without interpretation..it is accepted as easily as it was created.
The Necessity of Poetry Tredegar 1917 (from Collected Essays).
Poetry
Beneath the crisp and wintry carpet hid A million buds but stay their blossoming And trustful birds have built their nests amid The shuddering boughs, and only wait to sing Till one soft shower from the south shall bid And hither tempt the pilgrim steps of Spring.
For beauty being the best of all we know Sums up the unsearchable and secret aims Of nature.
The Growth of Love, Sonnet 8.
When men were all asleep the snow came flying, In large white flakes falling on the city brown, Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying, Hushing the latest traffic of the drowsy town.
Awake! the land is scattered with light, and see, Uncanopied sleep is flying from field and tree.
Awake, My Heart, to Be Loved, l. 13-14.
The storm is over, the land hushes to rest: The tyrannous wind, its strength fordone, Is fallen back in the west.
The Storm is Over, The Land Hushes to Rest, l. 1-3.
The broad cloud-driving moon in the clear sky Lifts o’er the firs her shining shield, And in her tranquil light Sleep falls on forest and field. See! sleep hath fallen: the trees are asleep: The night is come. The land is wrapt in sleep.
The Storm is Over, The Land Hushes to Rest, l. 38-43.
When Death to either shall come— I pray it be first to me.
And now impatiently despairest, see How nought is changed: Joy's wisdom is attired Splended for others' eyes if not for thee: Not love or beauty or youth from earth is fled: If they delite thee not, 'tis thou art dead.
Were I a cloud I'd gather My skirts up in the air, And fly I well know whither, And rest I well know where.
Book I, No. 4, The Cliff-Top.
Whither, O splendid ship, thy white sails crowding, Leaning across the bosom of the urgent West, That fearest nor sea rising, nor sky clouding, Whither away, fair rover, and what thy quest?
I have loved flowers that fade, Within whose magic tents Rich hues have marriage made With sweet unmemoried scents: A honeymoon delight, A joy of love at sight, That ages in an hour My song be like a flower!
So sweet love seemed that April morn, When first we kissed beside the thorn, So strangely sweet, it was not strange We thought that love could never change.
But I can tell — let truth be told — That love will change in growing old; Though day by day is nought to see, So delicate his motions be.
So Sweet Love Seemed, st. 2 (1893).
The Testament of Beauty (1929-1930)
[Note: the spelling and punctuation of this poem, as seen in the excerpts linked here, are Bridges' own. In his later years Bridges was interested in spelling and typography reform which would be based more closely on the actual pronunciation of words.]
Man's Reason is in such deep insolvency to sense, that tho' she guide his highest flight heav'nward, and teach him dignity morals manners and human comfort, she can delicatly and dangerously bedizen the rioting joys that fringe the sad pathways of Hell.
Book I, lines 57-61.
Nature hav no music; nor would ther be for thee any better melody in the April woods at dawn than what an old stone-deaf labourer, lying awake o'night in his comfortless attic, might perchance be aware of, when the rats run amok in his thatch?
Book I, lines 83-87.
Beauty is the highest of all these occult influences, the quality of appearances that thru' the sense wakeneth spiritual emotion in the mind of man.
Book II, lines 842-844.
Beauty, the eternal Spouse of the Wisdom of God and Angel of his Presence thru' all creation.
Book IV, lines 1-2.
Repudiation of pleasur is a reason'd folly of imperfection. Ther is no motiv can rebate or decompose the intrinsic joy of activ life, whereon all function whatsoever in man is based.
Book IV, lines 459-462.
I know that if odour were visible as colour is, I'd see the summer garden aureoled in rainbow clouds.
Book IV, lines 492-492.
The name of happiness is but a wider term for the unalloy'd conditions of the Pleasur of Life, attendant on all function, and not to be deny'd to th' soul, unless forsooth in our thought of nature spiritual is by definition unnatural.
Book IV, lines 533-537.
Seeking unceasingly for the First Cause of All, in question for what special purpose he was made, Man, in the unsearchable darkness, knoweth one thing: that as he is, so was he made; and if the Essence and characteristic faculty of humanity is our conscient Reason and our desire of knowledge, that was Nature's Purpose in the making of man.
Simple and brave, his faith awoke Ploughmen to struggle with their fate; Armies won battles when he spoke, And out of Chaos sprang the state.
Washington by Robert Bridges (1858 - 1941), American journalist and poet, who wrote under the pen name "Droch".