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Francis Turner Palgrave Quotes

1824–1897 England

Francis Turner Palgrave (September 28, 1824 – October 24, 1897) was a British critic and poet, most famous for his anthology, the Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics.

England
Academics
Anthologists
Critics
Poets

Also known as: Palgrave, Francis Turner

Random Francis Turner Palgrave quote

19 quotes

When once the mind has raised itself to grasp and to delight in excellence, those who love most will be found to love most wisely.

Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics (1861)

Our hope is less to last through Art than deeper searching of the heart, than broader range of uttered truth.

Time's corrosive dewdrop eats
The giant warrior to a crust
Of earth in earth and rust in rust.

Let the children play
And sit like flowers upon thy grave
And crown with flowers,—that hardly have
A briefer blooming-tide than they.

Shakespeare's stage must hold the glass to every age.

Can we see thee, and not remember
Thy sun-brown cheek and hair sun-golden,
O sweet September?

The monument outlasting bronze was promised well by bards of old.

Sleep puts out silent fingers,
And leads me back to the roar
Of the dead salt sea that vomits
Wrecks of the past ashore.

There is a garden where lilies
And roses are side by side;
And all day between them in silence
The silken butterflies glide.

They bring back light on their faces;
But they cannot bring back to me
What the lilies say to the roses,
Or the songs of the butterflies be.

Earth all one tomb lies round me,
Domed with an iron sky:
And God Himself in His power,
God cannot save me! I cry.

In the season of white wild roses
We two went hand in hand:
But now in the ruddy autumn
Together already we stand.

I see the lost Love in beauty
Go gliding over the main:
I feel the ancient sweetness,
The worm and the wormwood again.

In the hollow
Silver voices ripple and cry
Follow, O follow!

This little Collection differs, it is believed, from others in the attempt made to include in it all the best original lyrical pieces and songs in our language, by writers not living, and none besides the best. The Editor will regard as his fittest readers those who love poetry so well, that he can offer them nothing not already known and valued.

Golden Treasury of English Songs and Lyrics (1861)

I may not enter the garden,
Though I know the road thereto;
And morn by morn to the gateway
I see the children go.

With the cry I wake;—and around me
The mother and child at her feet
Breathe peace in even whispers;
And the night falls heavy and sweet.

The azure lake is argent now
Beneath the pale moonshine:
I seek a sign of hope in heaven:
Fair Polestar! thou are mine.
A thousand other beacons blaze;
I follow thee alone...

The Sun whispers, O remember!
You have but thirty days to run,
O sweet September!

Attribution

Quotes and notes from Wikiquote: Francis Turner Palgrave (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0.