Philip James Bailey

For ivy climbs the crumbling hall
To decorate decay.

For ivy climbs the crumbling hall
To decorate decay.

Blessing star forth forever; but a curse
Is like a cloud--it passes.

Blessing star forth forever; but a curse
Is like a cloud--it passes.

'Tis light translateth night; 'tis inspiration
Expounds experience; 'tis the west explains
The east; 'tis time unfolds read more

'Tis light translateth night; 'tis inspiration
Expounds experience; 'tis the west explains
The east; 'tis time unfolds Eternity.

Wan night, the shadow goer, came stepping in.

Wan night, the shadow goer, came stepping in.

Poetry is itself a thing of God;
He made his prophets poets;and the more
We feel of read more

Poetry is itself a thing of God;
He made his prophets poets;and the more
We feel of poesie do we become
Like God in love and power,--under-makers.