Not in thy body is thy life at all… But in this lady’s lips and hands… Through these she yields thee life… What else were sorrow’s servant an… Look on thyself without her, and r…

SHE opened her moist crimson lips… And from her throat that is so whi… The notes leaped like a fountain.… Was o’er my heart: as when—a viol—… Having been broken—the first music…

From child to youth; from youth to… From lethargy to fever of the hear… From faithful life to dream—dower’… From trust to doubt; from doubt to… Thus much of change in one swift c…

‘There is a budding morrow in midn… So sang our Keats, our English ni… And here, as lamps across the brid… In London’s smokeless resurrectio… Dark breaks to dawn. But o’er the…

“O HAVE you seen the Stratton f… That’s great with rain to—day? It runs beneath your wall, Lord S… Full of the new—mown hay. “I led your hounds to Hutton bank

AMBITION, Cupidité, Et délicieuse Volupté, Sont les sœurs de la Destinée Après la vingt—première année.

The wind flapp’d loose, the wind w… Shaken out dead from tree and hill… I had walk’d on at the wind’s will… I sat now, for the wind was still. Between my knees my forehead was,—

Two separate divided silences, Which, brought together, would fin… Two glances which together would r… In love, now lost like stars beyon… Two hands apart whose touch alone…

THE thoughts in me are very calm… That think upon your love: yet by… You shall not greatly marvel that… Or nightfall—yet scarce nightfall—… Leaves me thus sad. Now if you as…

Is it the moved air or the moving… That is Life’s self and draws my… And by instinct ineffable decree Holds my breath quailing on the bi… Nay, is it Life or Death, thus th…

When vain desire at last and vain… Go hand in hand to death, and all… What shall assuage the unforgotten… And teach the unforgetful to forge… Shall Peace be still a sunk strea…

LAY your head here, Mary, Lay your head here, While the blown grass, Mary, With timid voice and wary, Sings in your ear:—

Like labour-laden moonclouds faint… From winds that sweep the winter—b… Like multiform circumfluence manif… Of night’s flood-tide,—like terror… Of hoarse-tongued fire and inartic…

Beauty like hers is genius. Not t… Of Homer’s or of Dante’s heart su… Not Michael’s hand furrowing the… Is more with compassed mysteries m… Nay, not in Spring’s or Summer’s…

Sweet dimness of her loosened hair… About thy face; her sweet hands ro… In gracious fostering union garlan… Her tremulous smiles; her glances’… Of love; her murmuring sighs memor…