WHERE is poor Jesus gone? He sits with Dives now, And his dogs flesh their teeth On Lazarus below. Where is poor Jesus gone?
‘Chant of the Firemen’ ‘THIS is the steamer’s pit. The ovens like dragons of fire Glare thro’ their close-lidded eye… With restless hungry desire.
O WORDS as clear as are the daw… Between the still cloud-layers, an… As violets are, looking through cr… And with such melody as birds may… That sing the morning notes where…
. . . I went the other day To see the birds and beasts they k… In the London Zoo. One of the fi… One of the first I noticed, was a… Ragged, befouled, within his iron…
It is something in this darker dre… to have wrestled with its pleas… it is something to have sinned, an… it is something to have failed,… It is something to have loved the…
(TO LORD——) WILL you not buy? She asks you,… Who know the points desirable in s… She does not say that she is perfe… She’s not too pleasant to the sigh…
Death? is it death you give? So b… thou hast been long my friend,… cool cheek shall have my kiss, whi… expires on thy still lips, O lovel… Come then, loose hands, fair Life…
BURY me with clenched hands And eyes open wide, For in storm and struggle I lived… And in struggle and storm I died.
In that rich Archipelago of sea With fiery hills, thick woods wher… Browses along the trees, and god-l… Leave monuments of speech too larg… There are strange forest-trees. F…
(For the Ballarat statue of him) THIS is Scotch William Wallace… Who in dark hours first raised his… Who watched the English tyrant No… Steel-clad, with iron hoofs the S…
BEYOND the Night, down o’er the… I see light’s harbinger of day rel… Upon the false gleam of the ante-d… Lo, the fair heaven of sun-pursuin… Beyond the lampless sleep and peri…
To Mary Robinson ‘WHAT, are you lost, you pretty… This is no place for such sweet th… Our bodies, rank with sweat, will… And, you’ll observe, our lives are…
COME then, let us at least know… Let us not blink our eyes and say We did not understand; old age or… Benumbed our sense or stole our si… It is a lie—just that, a lie—to de…
‘HE holds a pistol to my head, Swearing he will shoot me dead, If he have not my purse instead, The robber!’ ‘He, with the lash of wealth and p…
DOWN in the woodlands, where the… Close to the breezy river, by the… Of ferns and flowers that shun the… But gather round the lizard-haunte… And listen to the birds’ sweet syl…
