The band was playing a waltz-quadr… I felt as light as a wind-blown fe… As we floated away, at the caller’… Through the intricate, mazy dance… Like mimic armies our lines were m…
Why are thou sad, my Beppo? But… Here at my feet, thy dear head on… I heard thee say thy heart would n… Or feel the olden ennui and unrest… What troubles thee? Am I not all…
I am tired to-night, and something… The wind maybe, or the rain, Or the cry of a bird in the copse… Has brought back the past and its… And I feel as I sit here thinking…
The solemn Sea of Silence lies be… I know thou livest, and them loves… And yet I wish some white ship wo… Across the ocean, beating word fro… The dead calm awes me with its awf…
I have lived this life as the skep… I have said the sweetness was less… Praising, nor cursing, the Hand t… I have drifted aimlessly through i… I have scoffed at the tale of a so…
She had looked for his coming as w… With the clash of arms and the bug… But he came instead with a stealth… Which she did not hear at all. She had thought how his armor woul…
Long have the poets vaunted, in th… Old times, old loves, old friendsh… Why should the old monopolise all… Then let the new claim mine. Give me strong new friends, when t…
All perfect things are saddening i… The autumn wood robed in its scarl… The matchless tinting on the royal… Whose velvet leaf by no least flaw… Love’s supreme moment, when the so…
The meadow and the mountain with d… Gazed on each other, till a fierce… Surged ‘neath the meadow’s seeming… And all the mountain’s fissures ra… A mighty river rolled between them…
Nay, nay, Antonio! nay, thou shal… My Gracia, who hath so deserted m… Thou art my friend, but if thou do… I shall not hesitate to challenge… ‘Curse and forget her?’ So I migh…
On the white throat of useless pas… That scorched my soul with its bur… I clutched my fingers in murderous… And gathered them close in a grip… For why should I fan, or feed wit…
Dear Love, where the red lilies b… The white snows are falling; And all through the woods where I… The loud winds are calling; And the robin that piped to us tun…
If all the year was summer time, And all the aim of life Was just to lilt on like a rhyme, Then I would be your wife. If all the days were August days,
You will forget me. The years are… They bind up the wounds which we t… This dream of our youth will fade… Fades from the skies when the sun… The cloud of forgetfulness, over a…
Adieu, Romauld! But thou canst no… Although no more I haunt thy drea… Thy hungering heart forever must r… And starve for those lost moments… Naught shall avail thy priestly ri…
We love but once. The great gold… From dawn to eventide doth cast hi… But the full splendour of his perf… Is reached but once throughout the… We love but once. The waves, wit…
