WILLIAM ALLINGHAM QUOTES
Irish poet & diarist (1828-1889)
Out of the city, far away
With Spring today!
Where copse tufted with primrose
Give me repose,
Wood-sorrel and wild violet
Soothe my soul's fret.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"A Holiday"
A man who keeps a diary pays,
Due toll to many tedious days;
But life becomes eventful--then,
His busy hand forgets the pen.
Most books, indeed, are records less
Of fulness than of emptiness.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"A Diary"
No funeral gloom, my dears, when I am gone,
Corpse-gazing, tears, black raiment, graveyard grimness;
Think of me as withdrawn into the dimness,
Yours still, you mine; remember all the best
Of our past moments, and forget the rest.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"A Poet's Epitaph"
Round the world and home again, that's the sailor's way!
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Homeward Bound"
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods,
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Autumnal Sonnet", Day and Night Songs
Does not the latent feeling that much of their striving is to no purpose tend to infuse large quantities of sham into men's work?
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"A Diary"
With pen and with pencil we're learning to say
Nothing, more cleverly every day.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Blackberries"
The cry, the dreadful cry! I know it--louder and nearer,
Circling our Dun--the Ban-Shee!--my heart is frozen to hear her!
Saw you not in the darkness a spectral glimmer of white
Flitting away?--I saw it!--evil her message tonight.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"The Ban-Shee"
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods,
And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt,
And night by night the monitory blast
Wails in the key-hole, telling how it pass'd
O'er empty fields, or upland solitudes,
Or grim wide wave; and now the power is felt
Of melancholy, tenderer in its moods
Than any joy indulgent summer dealt.
Dear friends, together in the glimmering eve,
Pensive and glad, with tones that recognize
The soft invisible dew in each one's eyes,
It may be, somewhat thus we shall have leave
To walk with memory, when distant lies
Poor Earth, where we were wont to live and grieve.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Autumnal Sonnet"
Not like Homer would I write,
Not like Dante if I might,
Not like Shakespeare at his best,
Not like Goethe or the rest,
Like myself, however small,
Like myself, or not at all.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Blackberries"
Scarcely a tear to shed;
Hardly a word to say;
The end of a Summer's day;
Sweet Love is dead.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"An Evening"
The trees are Indian Princes,
But soon they'll turn to Ghosts;
The scanty pears and apples
Hang russet on the bough;
Its Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,
'Twill soon be Winter now.
Robin, Robin Redbreast,
O Robin dear!
And what will this poor Robin do?
For pinching days are near.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Robin Redbreast"
Soul's Castle fell at one blast of temptation,
But many a worm had pierced the foundation.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Blackberries"
If he draw you aside from your proper end,
No enemy like a bosom friend.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Blackberries"
Tantarrara! the joyous Book of Spring
Lies open, writ in blossoms.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Daffodil"
Bare twigs in April enhance our pleasure;
We know the good time is yet to come....
Bare twigs in Autumn are signs for sadness;
We feel the good time is well-nigh past.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Winter"
You're a true poet: but, my dear,
If you would hold the public ear,
Remember to be not too clear.
Be strange, be verbally intense;
Words matter ten times more than sense;
In clear streams, under sunny skies,
The fish you angle for won't rise;
In turbid water, cloudy weather,
They'll rush to you by shoals together.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Advice to a Young Poet"
While friends we were, the hot debates
That rose 'twixt you and me!
Now we are mere associates,
And never disagree.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Blackberries"
Solitude is very sad,
Too much company twice as bad.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Blackberries"
One who can see without seeming to see--
That's an observer as good as three.
WILLIAM ALLINGHAM
"Blackberries"