#English
Pale amber sunlight falls across The reddening October trees, That hardly sway before a breeze As soft as summer: summer’s loss Seems little, dear! on days like t…
A while we wandered (thus it is I… Through a long, sandy track of No… Where only poppies grew among the… The which we, plucking, cast with… And ever sadlier, into the sad str…
What is Love? Is it a folly, Is it mirth, or melancholy? Joys above, Are there many, or not any?
Strange grows the river on the sun… The river comforts me, grown spect… Long was the day; at last the cons… _Sufficient for the day are the da… Labour and longing and despair the…
SPLEEN Around were all the roses red, The ivy all around was black. Dear, so thou only move thine head… Shall all mine old despairs awake!
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,
COLLOQUE SENTIMENTAL Into the lonely park all frozen fa… Awhile ago there were two forms wh… Lo, are their lips fallen and thei… Hardly shall a man hear the words…
The fire is out, and spent the war… (This is the end of every song man… The golden wine is drunk, the dreg… Bitter as wormwood and as salt as… And health and hope have gone the…
By the sad waters of separation Where we have wandered by divers w… I have but the shadow and imitatio… Of the old memorial days. In music I have no consolation,
(For Arthur Symons) I was not sorrowful, I could not… And all my memories were put to sl… I watched the river grow more whit… All day till evening I watched it…
Calm, sad, secure; behind high con… These watch the sacred lamp, these… And it is one with them when eveni… And one with them the cold return… These heed not time; their nights…
Love wine and beauty and the sprin… While wine is red and spring is he… And through the almond blossoms ri… The dove-like voices of thy Dear. Love wine and spring and beauty wh…
When I am old, And sadly steal apart, Into the dark and cold, Friend of my heart! Remember, if you can,
With delicate, mad hands, behind h… Surely he hath his posies, which t… Those scentless wisps of straw, th… His strait, caged universe, wherea… Pedant and pitiful. O, how his ra…
Beyond the pale of memory, In some mysterious dusky grove; A place of shadows utterly, Where never coos the turtle-dove, A world forgotten of the sun: