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Best Famous George William Russell Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous George William Russell poems. This is a select list of the best famous George William Russell poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous George William Russell poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of George William Russell poems.

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by George William Russell |

Blindness

 OUR true hearts are forever lonely:
A wistfulness is in our thought:
Our lights are like the dawns which only
Seem bright to us and yet are not.
Something you see in me I wis not: Another heart in you I guess: A stranger’s lips—but thine I kiss not, Erring in all my tenderness.
I sometimes think a mighty lover Takes every burning kiss we give: His lights are those which round us hover: For him alone our lives we live.
Ah, sigh for us whose hearts unseeing Point all their passionate love in vain, And blinded in the joy of being, Meet only when pain touches pain.


by George William Russell |

A Leader

 THOUGH your eyes with tears were blind,
Pain upon the path you trod:
Well we knew, the hosts behind,
Voice and shining of a god.
For your darkness was our day: Signal fires, your pains untold Lit us on our wandering way To the mystic heart of gold.
Naught we knew of the high land, Beauty burning in its spheres; Sorrow we could understand And the mystery told in tears.


by George William Russell |

The Message

 DO you not feel the white glow in your breast, my bird?
 That is the flame of love I send to you from afar:
Not a wafted kiss, hardly a whispered word,
 But love itself that flies as a white-winged star.
Let it dwell there, let it rest there, at home in your heart: Wafted on winds of gold, it is Love itself, the Dove.
Not the god whose arrows wounded with bitter smart, Nor the purple-fiery birds of death and love.
Do not ask for the hands of love or love’s soft eyes: They give less than love who give all, giving what wanes.
I give you the star-fire, the heart-way to Paradise, With no death after, no arrow with stinging pains.


by George William Russell |

Rest

 ON me to rest, my bird, my bird:
 The swaying branches of my heart
Are blown by every wind toward
 The home whereto their wings depart.
Build not your nest, my bird, on me; I know no peace but ever sway: O lovely bird, be free, be free, On the wild music of the day.
But sometimes when your wings would rest, And winds are laid on quiet eves: Come, I will bear you breast to breast, And lap you close with loving leaves.


by George William Russell |

Unknown God

 FAR up the dim twilight fluttered
 Moth-wings of vapour and flame:
The lights danced over the mountains,
 Star after star they came.
The lights grew thicker unheeded, For silent and still were we; Our hearts were drunk with a beauty Our eyes could never see.


by George William Russell |

Whom We Worship

 I WOULD not have the love of lips and eyes,
 The ancient ways of love:
But in my heart I built a Paradise,
 A nest there for the dove.
I felt the wings of light that fluttered through The gate I held apart: And all without was shadow, but I knew The bird within my heart.
Then, while the innermost with music beat, The voice I loved so long Seemed only the dream echo faint and sweet Of a far sweeter song.
I could not even bear the thought I felt Of Thee and Me therein; And with white heat I strove the veil to melt That love to love might win.
But ah, my dreams within their fountain fell; Not to be lost in thee, But with the high ancestral love to dwell In its lone ecstasy.


by George William Russell |

The Garden of God

 WITHIN the iron cities
One walked unknown for years,
In his heart the pity of pities
That grew for human tears.
When love and grief were ended The flower of pity grew: By unseen hands ’t was tended And fed with holy dew.
Though in his heart were barred in The blooms of beauty blown, Yet he who grew the garden Could call no flower his own.
For by the hands that watered, The blooms that opened fair Through frost and pain were scattered To sweeten the dead air.


by George William Russell |

Unconscious

 THE WINDS, the stars, and the skies though wrought
By the heavenly King yet know it not;
And man who moves in the twilight dim
Feels not the love that encircles him,
Though in heart, on bosom, and eyelids press
Lips of an infinite tenderness,
He turns away through the dark to roam
Nor heeds the fire in his hearth and home.


by George William Russell |

The Well of All-Healing

 THERE’S a cure for sorrow in the well at Ballylee
 Where the scarlet cressets hang over the trembling pool:
And joyful winds are blowing from the Land of Youth to me,
 And the heart of the earth is full.
Many and many a sunbright maiden saw the enchanted land With star faces glimmer up from the druid wave: Many and many a pain of love was soothed by a faery hand Or lost in the love it gave.
When the quiet with a ring of pearl shall wed the earth, And the scarlet berries burn dark by the stars in the pool; Oh, it’s lost and deep I’ll be amid the Danaan mirth, While the heart of the earth is full.


by George William Russell |

Light and Dark

 NOT the soul that’s whitest
 Wakens love the sweetest:
When the heart is lightest
 Oft the charm is fleetest.
While the snow-frail maiden, Waits the time of learning, To the passion laden Turn with eager yearning.
While the heart is burning Heaven with earth is banded: To the stars returning Go not empty-handed.
Ah, the snow-frail maiden! Somehow truth has missed her, Left the heart unladen For its burdened sister.