Thomas Edward Brown Poems

A collection of select Thomas Edward Brown famous poems that were written by Thomas Edward Brown or written about the poet by other famous poets. PoetrySoup is a comprehensive educational resource of the greatest poems and poets on history.

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Disguises

 High stretched upon the swinging yard, 
I gather in the sheet; 
But it is hard 
And stiff, and one cries haste. 
Then He that is most dear in my regard 
Of all the crew gives aidance meet; 
But from His hands, and from His feet, 
A glory spreads wherewith the night is starred: 
Moreover of a cup most bitter-sweet...Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward


Dora

 SHE knelt upon her brother's grave, 
 My little girl of six years old-- 
He used to be so good and brave, 
 The sweetest lamb of all our fold; 
He used to shout, he used to sing, 
Of all our tribe the little king-- 
And so unto the turf her ear she laid, 
To hark if still in...Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward

I bended unto me a Bough

 I bended unto me a bough of May,
That I might see and smell:
It bore it in a sort of way,
It bore it very well.
But, when I let it backward sway,
Then it were hard to tell
With what a toss, with what a swing,
The dainty thing
Resumed its proper level,
And sent me to the devil.
I know it did--you doubt it?
I turned, and...Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward

Ibant Obscur?

 To-night I saw three maidens on the beach,
Dark-robed descending to the sea,
So slow, so silent of all speech,
And visible to me
Only by that strange drift-light, dim, forlorn,
Of the sun's wreck and clashing surges born.

Each after other went,
And they were gathered to his breast--
It seemed to me a sacrament
Of some stern creed unblest:
As when to rocks, that cheerless girt the...Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward

If Thou Couldst Empty All Thyself Of Self

 If thou could'st empty all thyself of self, 
Like to a shell dishabited,
Then might He find thee on the ocean shelf, 
And say, "This is not dead,"
And fill thee with Himself instead.

But thou are all replete with very thou
And hast such shrewd activity,
That when He comes He says, "This is enow
Unto itself - 'twere better let it be,
It is...Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward


Jessie

 WHEN Jessie comes with her soft breast, 
 And yields the golden keys, 
Then is it as if God caress'd 
 Twin babes upon His knees-- 
Twin babes that, each to other press'd, 
Just feel the Father's arms, wherewith they both are bless'd. 

But when I think if we must part, 
 And all this personal dream be fled--...Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward

Land Ho!

 I know ’tis but a loom of land, 
Yet is it land, and so I will rejoice, 
I know I cannot hear His voice 
Upon the shore, nor see Him stand; 
Yet is it land, ho! land. 

The land! the land! the lovely land! 
‘Far off,’ dost say? Far off—ah, bless?d home! 
Farewell! farewell! thou salt sea-foam! 
Ah, keel...Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward

My Garden

 A garden is a lovesome thing, God wot!
Rose plot,
Fringed pool,
Ferned grot--
The veriest school
Of peace; and yet the fool
Contends that God is not--
Not God! in gardens! when the eve is cool?
Nay, but I have a sign;
'Tis very sure God walks in mine....Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward

Opifex

 As I was carving images from clouds,
And tinting them with soft ethereal dyes
Pressed from the pulp of dreams, one comes, and cries:--
"Forbear!" and all my heaven with gloom enshrouds.

"Forbear!" Thou hast no tools wherewith to essay
The delicate waves of that elusive grain:
Wouldst have due recompense of vulgar pain?
The potter's wheel for thee, and some coarse clay!

"So work, if work...Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward

Pain

 The Man that hath great griefs I pity not; 
’Tis something to be great 
In any wise, and hint the larger state, 
Though but in shadow of a shade, God wot! 

Moreover, while we wait the possible, 
This man has touched the fact, 
And probed till he has felt the core, where, packed 
In pulpy folds, resides the ironic...Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward

Pain

 MEN have made them gods of love,
Sun-gods, givers of the rain,
Deities of hill and grove:
I have made a god of Pain.


Of my god I know this much,
And in singing I repeat,
Though there’s anguish in his touch,
Yet his soul within is sweet....Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward

Risus Dei

 Methinks in Him there dwells alway
A sea of laughter very deep,
Where the leviathans leap,
And little children play,
Their white feet twinkling on its crisped edge;
But in the outer bay
The strong man drives the wedge
Of polished limbs,
And swims.
Yet there is one will say:--
'It is but shallow, neither is it broad'--
And so he frowns; but is he nearer God?

One saith that God...Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward

Salve!

 TO live within a cave--it is most good; 
 But, if God make a day, 
 And some one come, and say, 
'Lo! I have gather'd faggots in the wood!' 
 E'en let him stay, 
And light a fire, and fan a temporal mood! 

So sit till morning! when the light is grown 
 That he the path can...Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward

Specula

 When He appoints to meet thee, go thou forth— 
It matters not 
If south or north, 
Bleak waste or sunny plot. 
Nor think, if haply He thou seek’st be late, 
He does thee wrong. 
To stile or gate 
Lean thou thy head, and long! 
It may be that to spy thee He is mounting 
Upon a tower, 
Or in...Read more of this...
by Brown, Thomas Edward
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