#English
My spirit will not haunt the mound Above my breast, But travel, memory-possessed, To where my tremulous being found Life largest, best.
Thirty-two years since, up against… Seven shapes, thin atomies to lowe… Labouringly leapt and gained thy g… And four lives paid for what the s… They were the first by whom the de…
‘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
“Thou shalt be—Nothing.”—Omar Kh… “Tombless, with no remembrance.”—… Dead shalt thou lie; and nought Be told of thee or thought, For thou hast plucked not of the…
When you shall see me lined by too… My lauded beauties carried off fro… My eyes no longer stars as in thei… My name forgot of Maiden Fair and… When in your being heart concedes…
They had long met o’ Zundays—her… And at junketings, maypoles, and f… But she bode wi’ a thirtover uncle… Swore by noon and by night that he… Naibor Sweatley—a gaffer oft weak…
(E. L. G.) BENEATH a knap where flown Nestlings play, Within walls of weathered stone, Far away
Come again to the place Where your presence was as a leaf… Down a drouthy way whose ascent be… The bloom on the farer’s face. Come again, with the feet
We walked where Victor Jove was s… And passed to Livia’s rich red mu… Whence, thridding cave and Cripto… We gained Caligula’s dissolving p… And each ranked ruin tended to beg…
At last I entered a long dark gal… Catacomb—lined; and ranged at the… Were the bodies of men from far an… Who, motion past, were nevertheles… “The sense of waiting here strikes…
When battles were fought With a chivalrous sense of should… In spirit men said, “End we quick or dead, Honour is some reward!
When wilt thou wake, O Mother, wa… As one who, held in trance, has la… By vacant rote and prepossession s… The coils that thou hast wrought u… Wherein have place, unrealized by…
Where once we danced, where once w… Gentlemen, The floors are sunken, cobwebs han… And cracks creep; worms have fed u… The doors. Yea, sprightlier times…
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…
Here is the ancient floor, Footworn and hollowed and thin, Here was the former door Where the dead feet walked in. She sat here in her chair,