Anne Whitney



C. L'E.

by Anne Whitney

I dwelt content with God and loving all,
In those first years; but ere long, something strove
Within --and, Fame, I thought, is larger love;
And love of fame, in every noble soul,
Is love of love; -- and, though I missed the goal,
I could but see how, quite beyond our wills,
Some pure and deep Intelligence fulfils
Our longings in its own deep way. -- My shoal
God centred in a starred, unfathomed well;
The world might roar at will; 'twas charity
Merely to let it go; around me fell
Surpassing sun and air; and for earth's free,
Broad paths were slight, restraining arms so pale,
And endless kisses by the yearning sea.


Copyright 1859
346 & 348 Broadway
D. Appleton & Company
New York

Recommended Works

The Prisoner - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Human Seasons - John KeatsTo Haydon - John KeatsFuturity - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo George Sand: A Recognition - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo The Same - Anne WhitneyTo Sleep - John KeatsOn Receiving A Gift - Thomas HoodWork And Contemplation - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningO high-born souls, such as God sends to mould... - Anne WhitneyGrief - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningO night, a terrible dismay still lurks... - Anne WhitneyPast And Future - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningNight - Anne WhitneySubstitution - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe world is with me, and its many cares... - Thomas HoodOn Fame (Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy ...). - John KeatsOn A Picture Of Leander - John KeatsBy every sweet tradition of true hearts,... - Thomas HoodTo The Nile - John KeatsTo Kosciusko - John KeatsThe day is gone, and all its sweets are gone! ... - John KeatsTo The Ocean - Thomas HoodNo slight caprice rules thee. -- Who sounds one note... - Anne WhitneyOn The Sea - John KeatsOn Fame (How fever'd is the man, who cannot look ...) - John KeatsTo George Sand: A Desire - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningWhy did I laugh to-night? - John KeatsDarkness surrounds me with its phantom hosts... - Anne WhitneyComfort (Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet ...) - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningIn the still hours, a stiller strength was born - Anne WhitneyTo A Sleeping Child - Thomas HoodI dreamed an angel, Angel twice, through death... - Anne WhitneyOn Seeing The Elgin Marbles - John KeatsFor The Fourteenth Of February - Thomas HoodAnd for that thou art Beauty, and thy name... - Anne WhitneyKeats's Last Sonnet - John KeatsAddressed To The Same - John KeatsOn A Dream - John KeatsPerplexed Music - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAdequacy - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo My Brother George - John KeatsI know this spirit bridges unknown space... - Anne WhitneyCheerfulness Taught By Reason - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Passion Flower - Anne WhitneyOn First Looking Into Chapman's Homer - John KeatsTo _. (Time's sea hath been five years at its low ebb, ...) - John KeatsPatience Taught By Nature - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningIrreparableness - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningFrom all these mounds, though day blows fresh and warm, - Anne WhitneyO solitude! if I must with thee dwell, - John KeatsFalse Poets And True - Thomas HoodTears - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn Sitting Down To Read King Lear Once Again. - John KeatsIt is not death, that sometime in a sigh... - Thomas HoodWithin my life another life runs deep, - Anne WhitneyThou seem'st to solve the eternal unity... - Anne WhitneyAfter dark vapors have oppress'd our plains ... - John KeatsStoop low, dear Night, a little star-breeze wakes - Anne WhitneyDiscontent - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo Homer - John KeatsAddressed To Haydon - John KeatsOn A Portrait Of Wordsworth - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningI cry your mercy -- pity -- love -- ay, love ... - John KeatsWritten In The Cottage Where Burns Was Born - John KeatsHappy is England! I could be content ... - John KeatsA Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown. - John KeatsInsufficiency - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo My Brother - John KeatsThree Flowers - Thomas Bailey AldrichSo reed-like fragile, in the world's whirl nought... - Anne WhitneyRead me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud - John KeatsDark rolling clouds in wild confusion driven... - Caroline Bowles SoutheyLear - Thomas HoodHow many bards gild the lapses of time! - John KeatsWritten On The Day That Mr. Leigh Hunt Left Prison - John KeatsThe Seraph And Poet - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo The Spirit - Anne WhitneyTO G. A. W. - John KeatsYet are there sunbeams, though the kingly sun... - Anne WhitneyOn Leigh Hunt's Poem, The Story Of Rimini. - John KeatsTo one who has been long in city pent, ... - John KeatsTo _. (Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs ...) - John KeatsIf by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd ... - John KeatsO fair mistrust of earth's more solid shows... - Anne WhitneyLargess from seven-fold heavens, I pray, descend... - Anne WhitneyHow bravely Autumn paints upon the sky - Thomas HoodPain In Pleasure - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Meaning Of The Look - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour - John KeatsConsolation - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThis pleasant tale is like a little copse: ... - John KeatsSonnet To A Sonnet - Thomas HoodOn The Grasshopper And Cricket - John KeatsAnswer To A Sonnet Ending Thus: -- - John KeatsContinence - Anne WhitneyWhen I have fears that I may cease to be ... - John KeatsTo Ailsa Rock - John KeatsThe Soul's Expression - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Look - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo J. H. Reynolds - John KeatsAlas! and yesternight I woke in terror, - Anne WhitneyTo An Enthusiast - Thomas HoodBereavement - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOh! how I love, on a fair summer's eve, ... - John KeatsThe Two Sayings - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAn Apprehension - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningO Mankind's God! most silent and most lowly - Anne WhitneyTo A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses - John KeatsOf better fortune coming, then, talk not... - Anne WhitneyWork (What are we set on earth for? ...) - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningExaggeration - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningKeen Fitful Gusts Are Whispering Here And There - John KeatsC. L'E. - Anne WhitneyTo ____. (My heart is sick with longing, though I feed) - Thomas HoodTo Fancy - Thomas HoodThe Same (Might we make quest ...) - Anne WhitneyThe Same (Twas then we said...) - Anne Whitney