Verses on Various Occasions

 1

 2

 3

 4

 5

 6

 7

 8

 9

 10

 11

 12

 13

 14

 15

 16

 17

 18

 19

 20

 21

 22

 23

 24

 25

 26

 27

 28

 29

 30

 31

 32

 33

 34

 35

 36

 37

 38

 39

 40

  41

  42

  43

 44

  45

  46

  47

 48

 49

 50

  51

  52

  53

  54

 55

 56

 57

 58

 59

 60

 61

 62

 63

 64

 65

 66

 67

 68

 69

 70

 71

 72

 73

 74

 75

 76

 77

 78

 79

 80

 81

 82

 83

 84

 85

 86

 87

 88

 89

 90

 91

 92

 93

 94

 95

 96

 97

 98

 99

 100

 101

 102

 103

 104

 105

 106

 107

 108

 109

 110

 111

 112

 113

 114

 115

 116

 117

 118

 119

 120

 121

 122

 123

 124

 125

 126

 127

 128

 129

 130

 131

 132

 133

 134

 135

 136

 137

 138

 139

 140

 141

 142

 143

 144

 145

 146

 147

 148

 149

 150

 151

 152

 153

 154

 155

 156

 157

 158

 159

 160

 161

 162

 163

 164

 165

 166

 167

 168

 169

 170

 171

 172

 173

 174

 175

 176

 Dream of Gerontius

 Appendix

16

 16. Monks  for another small Album

   ( With lines on hinges to fit it. )  WHY dear Cousin,  why Ask for verses, when a poet's fount of song is  dry? Or, if aught be  there, Harsh and chill, it ill may touch the hand of lady  fair. Who can perfumed waters  bring From a convent  spring?  "Monks in the olden  time, "They were rhymesters?" they were rhymesters, but in Latin  rhyme. Monks in the days of  old Lived in secret, in the Church's kindly-sheltering  fold. No bland meditators  they Of a courtly  lay.  "They had visions  bright?" they had visions, yet not sent in slumbers soft and  light. No! a lesson  stern First by vigils, fast, and penance theirs it was to  learn. This their soul-ennobling  gain, Joys wrought out by  pain.  "When from home they  stirr'd, "Sweet their voices?" still, a blessing closed their merriest  word; And their gayest  smile Told of musings solitary, and the hallow'd  aisle. "Songsters?" hark! they answer!  round Plaintive chantings  sound!  Grey his cowlèd  vest, Whose strong heart has pledged his service to the cloister  blest. Duly garb'd is  he, As the frost-work gems the branches of yon stately  tree. 'Tis a danger-thwarting  spell, And it fits me  well!  Oxford .  December, 1829.