To drift with every passion till my soul Is as a stringed lute on which all winds… Is it for this that I have given away Mine ancient wisdom and austere control? Methinks my life is a twice—written scro…
Not that I love thy children, whose dul… See nothing save their own unlovely woe, Whose minds know nothing, nothing care t… But that the roar of thy Democracies, Thy reigns of Terror, thy great Anarchi…
Set in this stormy Northern sea, Queen of these restless fields of tide, England! what shall men say of thee, Before whose feet the worlds divide? The earth, a brittle globe of glass,
Milton! I think thy spirit hath passed… From these white cliffs, and high-embatt… This gorgeous fiery-coloured world of ou… Seems fallen into ashes dull and grey, And the age changed unto a mimic play
Eagle of Austerlitz! where were thy win… When far away upon a barbarous strand, In fight unequal, by an obscure hand, Fell the last scion of thy brood of Kin… Poor boy! thou wilt not flaunt thy cloak…
Christ, dost thou live indeed? or are th… Still straightened in their rock—hewn se… And was thy Rising only dreamed by Her Whose love of thee for all her sin atone… For here the air is horrid with men’s gr…
There was a time in Europe long ago When no man died for freedom anywhere, But England’s lion leaping from its lai… Laid hands on the oppressor! it was so While England could a great Republic sh…
Albeit nurtured in democracy, And liking best that state republican Where every man is Kinglike and no man Is crowned above his fellows, yet I see… Spite of this modern fret for Liberty,
This mighty empire hath but feet of clay… Of all its ancient chivalry and might Our little island is forsaken quite: Some enemy hath stolen its crown of bay, And from its hills that voice hath passe…
It is full summer now, the heart of Jun… Not yet the sun—burnt reapers are a—stir Upon the upland meadow where too soon Rich autumn time, the season’s usurer, Will lend his hoarded gold to all the tr…
Tread lightly, she is near Under the snow, Speak gently, she can hear The daisies grow. All her bright golden hair
I reached the Alps: the soul within me… Italia, my Italia, at thy name: And when from out the mountain’s heart… And saw the land for which my life had y… I laughed as one who some great prize ha…
See, I have climbed the mountain side Up to this holy house of God, Where once that Angel—Painter trod Who saw the heavens opened wide, And throned upon the crescent moon
Was this His coming! I had hoped to see A scene of wondrous glory, as was told Of some great God who in a rain of gold Broke open bars and fell on Danae: Or a dread vision as when Semele
Italia! thou art fallen, though with she… Of battle—spears thy clamorous armies st… From the north Alps to the Sicilian tid… Ay! fallen, though the nations hail thee… Because rich gold in every town is seen,
I wandered through Scoglietto’s far ret… The oranges on each o’erhanging spray Burned as bright lamps of gold to shame… Some startled bird with fluttering wings… Made snow of all the blossoms; at my fee…
The corn has turned from grey to red, Since first my spirit wandered forth From the drear cities of the north, And to Italia’s mountains fled. And here I set my face towards home,
Rome! what a scroll of History thine ha… In the first days thy sword republican Ruled the whole world for many an age’s… Then of thy peoples thou wert crownèd Q… Till in thy streets the bearded Goth wa…
Nay, Lord, not thus! white lilies in th… Sad olive—groves, or silver—breasted dov… Teach me more clearly of Thy life and l… Than terrors of red flame and thundering… The hillside vines dear memories of The…
The silver trumpets rang across the Dom… The people knelt upon the ground with aw… And borne upon the necks of men I saw, Like some great God, the Holy Lord of… Priest—like, he wore a robe more white t…
Come down, O Christ, and help me! reach… For I am drowning in a stormier sea Than Simon on thy lake of Galilee: The wine of life is spilt upon the sand, My heart is as some famine—murdered land…
I stood by the unvintageable sea Till the wet waves drenched face and hai… The long red fires of the dying day Burned in the west; the wind piped drear… And to the land the clamorous gulls did…
A Lily—Girl, not made for this world’s… With brown, soft hair close braided by h… And longing eyes half veiled by slumbero… Like bluest water seen through mists of… Pale cheeks whereon no love hath left it…
Where hast thou been since round the wal… The sons of God fought in that great em… Why dost thou walk our common earth agai… Hast thou forgotten that impassioned boy… His purple galley, and his Tyrian men,
This English Thames is holier far than… Those harebells like a sudden flush of s… Breaking across the woodland, with the f… Of meadow—sweet and white anemone To fleck their blue waves,—God is likel…
The Thames nocturne of blue and gold Changed to a Harmony in grey: A barge with ochre—coloured hay Dropt from the wharf: and chill and cold The yellow fog came creeping down
The little white clouds are racing over… And the fields are strewn with the gold… The daffodil breaks under foot, and the… Sways and swings as the thrush goes hurr… A delicate odour is borne on the wings o…
To that gaunt House of Art which lacks… Of all the great things men have saved f… The withered body of a girl was brought Dead ere the world’s glad youth had touc… And seen by lonely Arabs lying hid
The western wind is blowing fair Across the dark Ægean sea, And at the secret marble stair My Tyrian galley waits for thee. Come down! the purple sail is spread,
The apple trees are hung with gold, And birds are loud in Arcady, The sheep lie bleating in the fold, The wild goat runs across the wold, But yesterday his love he told,
My limbs are wasted with a flame, My feet are sore with travelling, For calling on my Lady’s name My lips have now forgot to sing. O Linnet in the wild—rose brake
A ring of gold and a milk—white dove Are goodly gifts for thee, And a hempen rope for your own love To hang upon a tree. For you a House of Ivory
He was a Grecian lad, who coming home With pulpy figs and wine from Sicily Stood at his galley’s prow, and let the… Blow through his crisp brown curls uncon… And holding wave and wind in boy’s despi…
The sea is flecked with bars of grey, The dull dead wind is out of tune, And like a withered leaf the moon Is blown across the stormy bay. Etched clear upon the pallid sand
To outer senses there is peace, A dreamy peace on either hand Deep silence in the shadowy land, Deep silence where the shadows cease. Save for a cry that echoes shrill
Rid of the world’s injustice, and his pa… He rests at last beneath God’s veil of… Taken from life when life and love were… The youngest of the martyrs here is lain… Fair as Sebastian, and as early slain.
O singer of Persephone! In the dim meadows desolate Dost thou remember Sicily? Still through the ivy flits the bee Where Amaryllis lies in state;
Her ivory hands on the ivory keys Strayed in a fitful fantasy, Like the silver gleam when the poplar tr… Rustle their pale—leaves listlessly, Or the drifting foam of a restless sea
I am weary of lying within the chase When the knights are meeting in market—p… Nay, go not thou to the red—roofed town Lest the hoofs of the war—horse tread th… But I would not go where the Squires ri…
Seven stars in the still water, And seven in the sky; Seven sins on the King’s daughter, Deep in her soul to lie. Red roses are at her feet,
Oft have we trod the vales of Castaly And heard sweet notes of sylvan music bl… From antique reeds to common folk unknow… And often launched our bark upon that se… Which the nine Muses hold in empery,
The Gods are dead: no longer do we brin… To grey—eyed Pallas crowns of olive—lea… Demeter’s child no more hath tithe of sh… And in the noon the careless shepherds s… For Pan is dead, and all the wantoning
Two crowned Kings, and One that stood a… With no green weight of laurels round hi… But with sad eyes as one uncomforted, And wearied with man’s never-ceasing moa… For sins no bleating victim can atone,
The sea was sapphire coloured, and the s… Burned like a heated opal through the ai… We hoisted sail; the wind was blowing fa… For the blue lands that to the eastward… From the steep prow I marked with quick…
Like burnt—out torches by a sick man’s b… Gaunt cypress—trees stand round the sun—… Here doth the little night—owl make her… And the slight lizard show his jewelled… And, where the chaliced poppies flame to…
The oleander on the wall Grows crimson in the dawning light, Though the grey shadows of the night Lie yet on Florence like a pall. The dew is bright upon the hill,
The silent room, the heavy creeping shad… The dead that travel fast, the opening d… The murdered brother rising through the… The ghost’s white fingers on thy shoulde… And then the lonely duel in the glade,
How vain and dull this common world must… To such a One as thou, who should’st ha… At Florence with Mirandola, or walked Through the cool olives of the Academe: Thou should’st have gathered reeds from…
I marvel not Bassanio was so bold To peril all he had upon the lead, Or that proud Aragon bent low his head, Or that Morocco’s fiery heart grew cold… For in that gorgeous dress of beaten gol…
In the lone tent, waiting for victory, She stands with eyes marred by the mists… Like some wan lily overdrenched with rai… The clamorous clang of arms, the ensangu… War’s ruin, and the wreck of chivalry,
As one who poring on a Grecian urn Scans the fair shapes some Attic hand h… God with slim goddess, goodly man with m… And for their beauty’s sake is loth to t… And face the obvious day, must I not ye…
Nay, let us walk from fire unto fire, From passionate pain to deadlier delight… I am too young to live without desire, Too young art thou to waste this summer… Asking those idle questions which of old
The sky is laced with fitful red, The circling mists and shadows flee, The dawn is rising from the sea, Like a white lady from her bed. And jagged brazen arrows fall
How steep the stairs within Kings’ hous… For exile—wearied feet as mine to tread, And O how salt and bitter is the bread Which falls from this Hound’s table,—be… That I had died in the red ways of war,
Is it thy will that I should wax and wa… Barter my cloth of gold for hodden grey, And at thy pleasure weave that web of pa… Whose brightest threads are each a waste… Is it thy will—Love that I love so well…
Dear Heart I think the young impassione… When first he takes from out the hidden… His God imprisoned in the Eucharist, And eats the bread, and drinks the dread… Feels not such awful wonder as I felt
As oftentimes the too resplendent sun Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon Back to her sombre cave, ere she hath wo… A single ballad from the nightingale, So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail…
The wild bee reels from bough to bough With his furry coat and his gauzy wing. Now in a lily—cup, and now Setting a jacinth bell a—swing, In his wandering;
Within this restless, hurried, modern wo… We took our hearts’ full pleasure—You a… And now the white sails of our ship are… And spent the lading of our argosy. Wherefore my cheeks before their time ar…
To stab my youth with desperate knives,… This paltry age’s gaudy livery, To let each base hand filch my treasury, To mesh my soul within a woman’s hair, And be mere Fortune’s lackeyed groom,—I…
