#English
Lime-trees meeting overhead, Many lovers cold and dead. Kissed and loved, and kissed again… In the sunshine and the rain. Underneath your scented green.
Schwartz Wald I sought at dawn for the sweet whi… In hiding among the blue, The earth was warm with the summer… The flowers still damp with dew.
Give me your hands to hold, For the night and the wind are col… And the year ‘s growing sad and ol… So give me your hands to hold. Give me your lips to press,
Dear, give me the tips of your fin… To hold in this scented gloom, ‘ Mid the sighs of the dying roses… That steal through the breeze-swep… I would have you but lightly touch…
Our little love is newly born, And shall I say good-bye? For if I go, perchance ere dawn Our little love will die! I’d better stay and help it grow,
It is the dawn, that wondrous fate… Of strange desires, of thoughts an… Within the womb of possibihty. A wind new-wakened combs the silke… Lifting the foam hke some unearthl…
July 23rd, 1906 Across the hills a tender shadow s… Like thought upon the face of one… And thro’ the silence rang some di… A vague sweet music in its every t…
To-day I heard the cuckoo call. Atop of Bredon Hill, I heard him near the blackthorn bu… And Oh! my heart stood still! For it was just a year ago,
Oh! City girls are pale-like, And proud-like, and cold-like. And nineteen out of twenty Have never been our way. I tells them of the tall hills.
Oh! weary ghosts, be still! Sad spectres of long dead delights… Wan spirits of the days and nights Wherein of joy we drank our fill, Lie deep beneath the sod of years.
Oh! my valley of shade and dreams! Golden lights 'mid the distant blu… Sun that pauses to kiss the dew, Dew that trembles beneath its beam… Fain were I but a bird above,
The clustering grapes of purple vi… Are crushed to make the crimson wi… The poppies in the grasses deep Are crushed to brew the draught of… The roses, when their glories bloo…
O Casend Hill, I be so heavy-hea… So lonesome-hke since from my love… That when the bracken on your side… And all the mating thrushes start… A kind of fear across my mind come…
I made a little funeral pyre, And on it laid my youthful rhymes, Those thoughts of innocent desire, Dear foolish words of childhood ti… Poor things they were, misspelt an…
The day our dead are laid to rest We heap the earth upon their breas… Upon the earth we set a stone. And then we leave them all alone. Some folks they weep, and some the…