Anne Whitney



Yet are there sunbeams, though the kingly sun...

by Anne Whitney

Yet are there sunbeams, though the kingly sun
Reveal not his full eye; yet flowers, to bear
Mute witness of the Heart that keeps the year,
Through all its wintry chill; and I have won,
Where was no face nor voice, a glance, a tone,
A spirit, call it, that all shapes doth wear,
And brings me knowledge which I scarcely dare
Call mine. Now, out of grief it sings; anon,
It calls me in another's deed or word.
Capricious is the sprite, and now will herd
With common things, now wing me wind-warm cheer
From far-off times and climates happier,
And when from distant fields I call the bird,
A quiet chirp proclaims it nested here.


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

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The Same (Twas then we said...) - Anne WhitneyOh! how I love, on a fair summer's eve, ... - John KeatsBereavement - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Prisoner - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningSonnet To A Sonnet - Thomas HoodAlas! and yesternight I woke in terror, - Anne WhitneyTo _. (Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs ...) - John KeatsThe Soul's Expression - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningBy every sweet tradition of true hearts,... - Thomas HoodAddressed To Haydon - John KeatsO night, a terrible dismay still lurks... - Anne WhitneyOn A Portrait Of Wordsworth - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo An Enthusiast - Thomas HoodTo My Brother - John KeatsTo A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown. - John KeatsI dreamed an angel, Angel twice, through death... - Anne WhitneyFor The Fourteenth Of February - Thomas HoodTo ____. (My heart is sick with longing, though I feed) - Thomas HoodO high-born souls, such as God sends to mould... - Anne WhitneyO Mankind's God! most silent and most lowly - Anne WhitneyKeen Fitful Gusts Are Whispering Here And There - John KeatsKeats's Last Sonnet - John KeatsWork And Contemplation - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningNight - Anne WhitneyGrief - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo Fancy - Thomas HoodOn Sitting Down To Read King Lear Once Again. - John KeatsDarkness surrounds me with its phantom hosts... - Anne WhitneyTo A Sleeping Child - Thomas HoodTo The Ocean - Thomas HoodYet are there sunbeams, though the kingly sun... - Anne WhitneyTo Homer - John KeatsHow many bards gild the lapses of time! - John KeatsLargess from seven-fold heavens, I pray, descend... - Anne WhitneyOn The Sea - John KeatsTo The Nile - John KeatsPain In Pleasure - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningRead me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud - John KeatsOn Receiving A Gift - Thomas HoodWritten In The Cottage Where Burns Was Born - John KeatsThe Passion Flower - Anne WhitneyTo Ailsa Rock - John KeatsHappy is England! 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