#English
While the far farewell music thins… And the broad bottoms rip the bear… All smalling slowly to the gray se… And each significant red smoke-sha… Keen sense of severance everywhere…
If hours be years the twain are bl… For now they solace swift desire By bonds of every bond the best, If hours be years. The twain are… Do eastern stars slope never west,
When the wasting embers redden the… And Life’s bare pathway looms lik… And from hall and parlour the livi… My perished people who housed them… They come and seat them around in…
I sat in the Muses’ Hall at the m… And it seemed to grow still, and t… And the chiselled shapes to combin… Till beside a Carrara column ther… She was nor this nor that of those…
I said to Love, "It is not now as in old days When men adored thee and thy ways All else above; Named thee the Boy, the Bright, t…
I traced the Circus whose gray st… Where Rome and dim Etruria interj… Till came a child who showed an an… That bore the image of a Constant… She lightly passed; nor did she on…
She wore a 'terra-cotta’ dress, And we stayed, because of the pelt… Within the hansom’s dry recess, Though the horse had stopped; yea,… We sat on, snug and warm.
Song of the Soldiers What of the faith and fire within… Men who march away Ere the barn-cocks say Night is growing gray,
‘If ever I walk to church to wed, As other maidens use, And face the gathered eyes,’ she s… 'I’ll go in satin shoes!' She was as fair as early day
He was leaning by a face, He was looking into eyes, And he knew a trysting-place, And he heard seductive sighs; But the face,
I looked up from my writing, And gave a start to see, As if rapt in my inditing, The moon's full gaze on me. Her meditative misty head
‘What are you still, still thinkin… He asked in vague surmise, ’That you stare at the wick unblin… With those great lost luminous eye… ‘O, I see a poor moth burning
THOUGH I waste watches framing… Some spirit to mine own in clasp a… Out of the night there looms a sen… To fail obtaining whom one fails t… For winning love we win the risk o…
Offended by a Book of the Writer’… NOW that my page upcloses, doomed… Never to press thy cosy cushions m… Or wake thy ready Yeas as heretof… Or stir thy gentle vows of faith i…
Breathe not, hid Heart: cease sil… And though thy birth-hour beckons… Sleep the long sleep: The Doomsters heap Travails and teens around us here,