#English
I would not alter thy cold eyes, Nor trouble the calm fount of spee… With aught of passion or surprise. The heart of thee I cannot reach: I would not alter thy cold eyes!
All the moon-shed nights are over, And the days of gray and dun; There is neither may nor clover, And the day and night are one. Not an hamlet, not a city
Come hither, child, and rest, This is the end of day, Behold the weary West! Sleep rounds with equal zest Man’s toil and children’s play,
You would have understood me, had… I could have loved you, dear! as w… Had we not been impatient, dear! a… Always to disagree. What is the use of speech? Silenc…
They are not long, the weeping and… Love and desire and hate: I think they have no portion in us… We pass the gate. They are not long, the days of win…
Exceeding sorrow Consumeth my sad heart! Because to-morrow We must depart, Now is exceeding sorrow
Love heeds no more the sighing of… Against the perfect flowers: thy g… Is grown a wilderness, where none… One strayed, last petal of one las… O bright, bright hair! O mouth li…
Ah, Manon, say, why is it we Are one and all so fain of thee? Thy rich red beauty debonnaire In very truth is not more fair, Than the shy grace and purity
The cherry-coloured velvet of your… Time hath not soiled: its fair emb… Gleam as when centuries ago they s… To what bright gallant of Her Dai… Whose slender fingers, long since…
All that I had I brought, Little enough I know; A poor rhyme roughly wrought, A rose to match thy snow: All that I had I brought.
Sometimes, to solace my sad heart,… Though late it be, though lily-tim… Though all the summer skies be ove… Haply I will go down to her, some… And cast my rests of life before h…
Before my light goes out for ever… graces, I would not reck of length of days… But cry: ‘One day of the great lo… Grant me to see and touch once mor…
Last night, ah, yesternight, betwi… There fell thy shadow, Cynara! th… Upon my soul between the kisses an… And I was desolate and sick of an… Yea, I was desolate and bowed my…
A song of the setting sun! The sky in the west is red, And the day is all but done; While yonder up overhead, All too soon,
By the pale marge of Acheron, Me thinks we shall pass restfully, Beyond the scope of any sun. There all men hie them one by one, Far from the stress of earth and s…