Anne Whitney

1821-1915

TitlesFirst LinesLast Lines
 

Of better fortune coming, then, talk not...

by Anne Whitney

Of better fortune coming, then, talk not,
Thou teachest, and think not: -- nay, rather dare
The utmost of the world's ill strength, despair.
Take up with courage the unlovely lot,
And it shall grow in thy familiar thought
To beauty. -- Dumb sorrows that the life-strings wear,
And stings -- the points of broken trust, and care,
And those hot, random arrows, whose keen shot
Must find thine or another heart, shall all
Be rounded in the sweet and ample sky
Of the enfranchised soul. Eternity
Shall come home to the hour. -- Thou didst not call
Light, light -- heaven, heaven -- till now, when not a thrall,
But king thou art -- yea, free, forever free.

Source:

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

Other Works

Within my life another life runs deep,The Grave-DiggerStoop low, dear Night, a little star-breeze wakesC. L'E.Darkness surrounds me with its phantom hosts...Half AwakeAlas! and yesternight I woke in terror,JoyTo The SameThe Same (Might we make quest ...)Two StanzasLoud heart, that sleep'st when the world's awake,NightO night, a terrible dismay still lurks...So reed-like fragile, in the world's whirl nought...MemoryNo slight caprice rules thee. -- Who sounds one note...And for that thou art Beauty, and thy name...In the still hours, a stiller strength was bornSeaside

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W. - John KeatsI know this spirit bridges unknown space... - Anne WhitneyNo slight caprice rules thee. -- Who sounds one note... - Anne WhitneyGrief - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAfter dark vapors have oppress'd our plains ... - John KeatsOn Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour - John KeatsAn Apprehension - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningA Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThou seem'st to solve the eternal unity... - Anne WhitneyBereavement - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningComfort (Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet ...) - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOf better fortune coming, then, talk not... - Anne WhitneyWritten In The Cottage Where Burns Was Born - John KeatsOn The Grasshopper And Cricket - John KeatsThe world is with me, and its many cares... - Thomas HoodTo An Enthusiast - Thomas HoodOn First Looking Into Chapman's Homer - John KeatsThe Human Seasons - John KeatsOn A Picture Of Leander - John KeatsTo Haydon - John KeatsHappy is England! 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