1. Robert Bridges
The Unillumined Verge

They tell you that Death ’s at the turn of the road,
  That under the shade of a cypress you ’ll find him,
And, struggling on wearily, lashed by the goad
  Of pain, you will enter the black mist behind him.

I can walk with you up to the ridge of the hill,...

Poet: Robert Bridges
James McCosh

Young to the end through sympathy with youth,
Gray man of learning,—champion of truth!
Direct in rugged speech, alert in mind,
He felt his kinship with all humankind,
And never feared to trace development
Of high from low,—assured and full content
...

Poet: Robert Bridges
“So sweet love seemed”

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...

Poet: Robert Bridges
“The Unillumined Verge”

To a Friend Dying
THEY tell you that Death ’s at the turn of the road,
  That under the shade of a cypress you ’ll find him,
And, struggling on wearily, lashed by the goad
  Of pain, you will enter the black mist behind him.

I can walk with you up to the...

Poet: Robert Bridges
The Sea-Poppy

A Poppy grows upon the shore
  Bursts her twin cup in summer late:
Her leaves are glaucous green and hoar,
  Her petals yellow, delicate.

Oft to her cousins turns her thought,
  In wonder if they care that she
Is fed with spray for dew, and...

Poet: Robert Bridges
Asian Birds

In this May-month, by grace
  of heaven, things shoot apace.
The waiting multitude
  of fair boughs in the wood,—
How few days have arrayed
  their beauty in green shade!

What have I seen or heard?
  it was the yellow bird
Sang in...

Poet: Robert Bridges
For a Novel of Hall Caine’s

After Kipling
HE sits in a sea-green grotto with a bucket of lurid paint,
And draws the Thing as it isn’t for the God of things as they ain’t.
Poet: Robert Bridges