Anne Whitney



To The Spirit

by Anne Whitney

By a prodigal's favorite.

Thou teachest better things unto my heart,
Than with my mouth I sing. I would fain be
The Memnon of the sunrise that I see:
I would the uprising flame would dart
Forth from my lips in living melody.
Or might I mock that inward hymn --! In vain;
Like the poor bird that seeks so passionately
To breathe its rival's more melodious strain,
I beat my wings for nought. And yet, O soul,
Life, love and nature, better thus to live
With you in close embrace, as whole in whole,
Than to give happily with less to give;
I drink continually the nectar up,
Yet never see the bottom of the cup.


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

Recommended Works

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