#Welsh
The boats go out and the boats com… Under the wintry sky; And the rain and foam are white in… And the white gulls cry. She sees the sea when the wind is…
Last night I saw you decked to me… The coming of those most reluctant… The little bonnet that you wear When you would fain, for his sake,… The primrose ribbons that so grace
I am the torch, she saith, and wha… If the moth die of me? I am the f… Of Beauty, and I burn that all ma… Beauty, and I have neither joy no… But live with that clear light of…
My soul is like this cloudy, flami… The fields of earth are in it, gre… The waves of the blue sky, night’s… The vanishing cold scintillations… And the red heart that is a flame…
O Lethe, hidden waters never dry, We, all we weary and heavy-laden,… O Lethe, let us find thee and for… —All we have sinnèd, and yet the s… —And we, all we had sorrow.—And w…
Her mouth is all of roses, Her eyes are violets; And round her cheek at hide and se… Love plays among the roses That dimple on her cheek.
The grey-green stretch of sandy gr… Indefinitely desolate; A sea of lead, a sky of slate; Already autumn in the air, alas! One stark monotony of stone,
—After a picture by Burne Jones— The green leaves, ah, the green le… Would I might lose this unloved h… And share the happy being of the l… For lo, they live and grow and dri…
As a perfume doth remain In the folds where it hath lain, So the thought of you, remaining Deeply folded in my brain, Will not leave me: all things leav…
Miraculous silver-work in stone Against the blue miraculous skies, The belfry towers and turrets rise Out of the arches that enthrone That airy wonder of the skies.
There’s a flutter of grey through… Ah, the exquisite curves of her dr… Fleet with her feet on the path wh… I see not her face, I but see The swift re-appearance, the flitt…
Water and marble and that silentne… Which is not broken by a wheel or… A city like a water-lily, less Seen than reflected, palace wall a… In the unfruitful waters motionles…
As Nora on the pavement Dances, and she entrances the grey… Into the laughing circle of her po… The magic circle of her glances, As Nora dances on the midnight pa…
Shed, sinful flesh, these tears of… For all thy vileness all too few; Wash out, O holy healing flood, The sins that always in God’s vie… Stand as a mountain day and night,
Olivier Metra’s Waltz of Roses Sheds in a rhythmic shower The very petals of the flower; And all is roses, The rouge of petals in a shower.