#English
(from the French of Wenceslas, Du… I cannot tell, of twain beneath th… Which one in grief the other goes… Narcissus, who to end the pain he… Died of the love that could not he…
O Son of mine, when dusk shall fi… Between a gravestone and a cradle’… Between the love whose name is los… And the young love whose thoughts… Thou too shalt groan at heart that…
She is a lady fair and wise, Her heart her counsel keeps, And well she knows of time that fl… And tide that onward sweeps; But still she sits with restless e…
O Saint whose thousand shrines ou… And our eyes loved thy lamp’s eter… Dim earthly radiance of the Unkno… Hope of the darkness, light of the… Far off, far off and faint, O gli…
Boys, are ye calling a toast to-ni… (Hear what the sea-wind saith) Fill for a bumper strong and brigh… And here’s to Admiral Death! He’s sailed in a hundred builds o’…
He gave us all a good-bye cheerily At the first dawn of day; We dropped him down the side full… When the light died away. It’s a dead dark watch that he’s a…
‘Hark ye, hark to the winding horn… Sluggards, awake, and front the mo… Hark ye, hark to the winding horn; The sun’s on meadow and mill. Follow me, hearts that love the ch…
(A Lady of Tender Age) Ladies, where were your bright eye… Where were they glancing yester-ni… Saw ye Imogen dancing, dancing, Imogen dancing all in white?
This is the Chapel: here, my son, Your father thought the thoughts o… And heard the words that one by on… The touch of Life has turn’d to t… Here in a day that is not far,
Praise thou with praise unending, The Master of the Wine; To all their portions sending Himself he mingled thine: The sea-born flush of morning,
(Old French) Memories long in music sleeping, No more sleeping, No more dumb; Delicate phantoms softly creeping
In seventeen hundred and fifty-nin… When Hawke came swooping from the… The French King’s Admiral with t… Was sailing forth to sack us, out… The ports of France were crowded,…
“Ye have robb’d,” said he, “ye hav… Take your ill-got plunder, and bur… What will ye more of your guest an… “Blood for our blood,” they said. He laugh’d: “If one may settle th…
Past seven o’clock: time to be gon… Twelfth-night’s over and dawn shiv… A hasty cut of the loaf, a steamin… Down to the door, and there is Co… Ruddy of cheek is John and bright…
His beauty bore no token, No sign our gladness shook; With tender strength unbroken The hand of Life he took: But the summer flowers were fallin…