#English
One with the ruined sunset, The strange forsaken sands, What is it waits, and wanders, And signs with desparate hands? What is it calls in the twilight -
There’s never a delicate nurseling… But our huge London hails it, and… To wear it on her breast or at her… Her days to colour and make sweet… Crocus and daffodil and violet,
If I were king, my pipe should be… The skies of time and chance are s… We would inform them all with blan… Delight alone would need to shed a… For dream and deed should war no m…
Blue-eyed and bright of face but w… Into the sere of virginal decay, I view her as she enters, day by d… As a sweet sunset almost overpast. Kindly and calm, patrician to the…
Beside the idle summer sea, And in the vacant summer days, Light Love came fluting down the… Where you were loitering with me. Who have not welcomed even as we,
Spring at her height on a morn at… Sails that laugh from a flying squ… Pomp of harmony, rapture of rhyme… Youth is the sign of them, one and… Winter sunsets and leaves that fal…
Life in her creaking shoes Goes, and more formal grows, A round of calls and cues: Love blows as the wind blows. Blows! . . . in the quiet close
Fill a glass with golden wine, And the while your lips are wet Set your perfume unto mine, And forget. Every kiss we take and give
I gave my heart to a woman— I gave it to her, branch and root. She bruised, she wrung, she tortur… She cast it under foot. Under her feet she cast it,
I watched you saunter down the san… Serene and large, the golden weath… Flowed radiant round your peacock… And glistered from your jewelled h… Your tawny hair, turned strand on…
Life is bitter. All the faces of… Young and old, are gray with trava… Must we only wake to toil, to tire… In the sun, among the leaves, upon… Slumber stills to dreamy death the…
A DAINTY thing’s the Villanell… Sly, musical, a jewel in rhyme, It serves its purpose passing well… A double-clappered silver bell That must be made to clink in chim…
I gave my heart to a woman— I gave it her, branch and root. She bruised, she wrung, she tortur… She cast it under foot. Under her feet she cast it,
Where are the passions they essaye… And where the tears they made to f… Where the wild humours they portra… For laughing worlds to see and kno… Othello’s wrath and Juliet’s woe?
These, to you now, O, more than e… Now that the Ancient Enemy Has passed, and we, we two that ar… A piece of perfect Life Turn to so ravishing a shape of D…
