#Decadents #English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
An Ode I walked beside full—flooding Tha… Westward; upon my face the sunset… The hour, the spacious evening, pl… Buoyant the air breathed after rai…
O Weariness, that writest histori… On all these human faces, and O S… That somewhere silence hears! You… It seems, in the old earth’s deep—… Your way of solace is a different…
In the shadow of a broken house, Down a deserted street, Propt walls, cold hearths, and pha… And the silence of dead feet— Locked wildly in one another’s arm…
Dear is the newly won, But O far dearer the for ever los… He that at utmost cost His utmost deed hath done The lost one to recover, and in va…
Water, frolic water! Drops in the dazzle of noon, drops… Radiant down naked breast, down ar… You run to my feet, shaken to shin… Betwixt the green blades, liquid g…
Over all the watered vale Shadows of the clouds trail: Then the sun laughs out, and sheen Runs like joy across the green. Young the leaf is, young the flowe…
The Golden Gallery lifts its aery… O’er dome and pinnacle: there I l… Is this indeed my own familiar tow… This busy dream? Beneath me sprea… In distance large it lay, nor noth…
Shafts of light, that poured from… Glowed on long red walls of the ga… Fell upon monstrous visions of age… Still, smiling Sphinx, winged and… With burnished breast of ebon marb…
The shrines of old are broken down… The faiths that knelt at them are… Nothing’s strange, and nought unkn… All’s been done and all been said. Tired of knowledge, now we sigh
From the howl of the wind As I opened the door And entered, the firelight Was soft on the floor. Mute each in their places
Staggering slowly, and swaying Heavily at each slow foot’s lift a… With tense eyes careless of the ro… That under jut and jag Of half—built wall and scaffold st…
Dear child, thou know’st, I blame… Thou too, I know, hast shared the… Neither did wrong; ’twas only she, Nature, that moulded us apart. But not to have sinned, in Nature…
O travelled far beyond unhappiness Into a dreadful peace! Why tarriest thou here? The stree… With noon; the music of the tidal… Of London fills the trembling air…
Love, like cordial wine, Pouring his soul in mine, Bids me to sing; Youth’s bright glory snatch, And Time’s paces match
O WORLD, be nobler, for her sak… If she but knew thee what thou art… What wrongs are borne, what deeds… In thee, beneath thy daily sun, Know’st thou not that her tender h…