Robert Fuller Murray poems
Robert Fuller Murray(1863 - 1894 / United States)
A Criticism of Critics
- by Robert Fuller Murray 93
How often have the critics, trainedTo look upon the sky
Through telescopes securely chained,
Forgot the naked eye.
Within the compass of their glass
Each smallest star they knew,
And not a meteor could pass
But they were looking through.
When a new planet shed its rays
Beyond their field of vision,
And simple folk ran out to gaze,
They laughed in high derision.
They railed upon the senseless throng
Who cheered the brave new light.
And yet the learned men were wrong,
The simple folk were right.
A May-Day Madrigal
- by Robert Fuller Murray 90
The sun shines fair on Tweedside, the river flowing bright,Your heart is full of pleasure, your eyes are full of light,
Your cheeks are like the morning, your pearls are like the dew,
Or morning and her dew-drops are like your pearls and you.
Because you are a princess, a princess of the land,
You will not turn your lightsome eyes a moment where I stand,
A poor unnoticed poet, a-making of his rhymes;
But I have found a mistress, more fair a thousand times.
'Tis May, the elfish maiden, the daughter of the Spring,
Upon whose birthday morning the birds delight to sing.
They would not sing one note for you, if you should so command,
Although you are a princess, a princess of the land.