With a Copy of My Poems
#Gays #Irish #Victorians #XIXCentury #1897 #TheBalladOfReadingGaol
Within this restless, hurried, mod… We took our hearts’ full pleasure—… And now the white sails of our shi… And spent the lading of our argosy… Wherefore my cheeks before their t…
Nay, Lord, not thus! white lilies… Sad olive—groves, or silver—breast… Teach me more clearly of Thy life… Than terrors of red flame and thun… The hillside vines dear memories o…
These are the letters which Endym… To one he loved in secret and apar… And now the brawlers of the auctio… Bargain and bid for each poor blot… Aye! for each separate pulse of pa…
The silent room, the heavy creepin… The dead that travel fast, the ope… The murdered brother rising throug… The ghost’s white fingers on thy s… And then the lonely duel in the gl…
This English Thames is holier far… Those harebells like a sudden flus… Breaking across the woodland, with… Of meadow—sweet and white anemone To fleck their blue waves,—God is…
Could we dig up this long—buried t… Were it worth the pleasure, We never could learn love’s song, We are parted too long. Could the passionate past that is…
To my friend George Fleming autho… ‘Mirage’) A year ago I breathed the Italian… And yet, methinks this northern S… These fields made golden with the…
The silver trumpets rang across th… The people knelt upon the ground w… And borne upon the necks of men I… Like some great God, the Holy Lo… Priest—like, he wore a robe more w…
Rome! what a scroll of History th… In the first days thy sword republ… Ruled the whole world for many an… Then of thy peoples thou wert crow… Till in thy streets the bearded G…
Sweet, I blame you not, for mine… was, had I not been made of common… I had climbed the higher heights u… yet, seen the fuller air, the larg… From the wildness of my wasted pas…
It was night—time and He was alon… And He saw afar—off the walls of… city. And when He came near He heard wi… feet of joy, and the laughter of t…
The seasons send their ruin as the… For in the spring the narciss show… Nor withers till the rose has flam… And in the autumn purple violets b… And the slim crocus stirs the wint…
O singer of Persephone! In the dim meadows desolate Dost thou remember Sicily? Still through the ivy flits the be… Where Amaryllis lies in state;
Eagle of Austerlitz! where were t… When far away upon a barbarous str… In fight unequal, by an obscure ha… Fell the last scion of thy brood o… Poor boy! thou wilt not flaunt thy…
See, I have climbed the mountain… Up to this holy house of God, Where once that Angel—Painter tro… Who saw the heavens opened wide, And throned upon the crescent moon