#English #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Saint Charles! ah yes, let other… Love Elia for his antic pen, And watch with dilettante eyes His page for every quaint surprise… Curious of caviare phrase.
Primrose and Violet– May they help thee to forget All that love should not remember, Sweet as meadows after rain When the sun has come again,
I am so fair that wheresoe’er I w… Men yearn with strange desire to k… Stretch out their hands to touch m… And women follow me from place to… A poet writing honey of his dear
When the embalmer closed my eyes, And all the family went in black, And shipped me off to Paradise, I had no thought of coming back; I dreamed of undisturbed repose
Art is a gipsy, Fickle as fair, Good to kiss and flirt with, But marry—if you dare!
With Pipe and Book at close of da… Oh, what is sweeter, mortal, say? It matters not what book on knee, Old Izaak or the Odyssey, It matters not meerschaum or clay.
Who will gather with me the fallen… This drift of forgotten forsaken l… Ah! who give ear To the sigh October heaves At summer’s passing by!
To Man in haste, flushed with imp… Of some great thing to do, so slow… The long delay of Time all idle s… Idle the lordly leisure of the sun… So splendid his design, so brief h…
O bird that somewhere yonder sings… In the dim hour 'twixt dreams and… Lone in the hush of sleeping thing… In some sky sanctuary withdrawn; Your perfect song is too like pain…
I nothing did all yesterday But listen to the singing rain On roof and weeping window-pane, And, 'whiles I’d watch the flying… And smoking breakers in the bay:
Deem not my love is only for the b… The honey and the marble, that is… Tis so, Beloved, common loves con… Their treasury, and vanish like th… Nay, but my love’s a thing that’s…
Stream that leapt and danced Down the rocky ledges, All the summer long, Past the flowered sedges, Under the green rafters,
Kisses are long forgotten of this… Kisses and words-the sweet small p… That run before the Lord of Love:… Touch of the hand, and feasting of… All tendrilled sweets that blossom…
Morn hath a secret that she never… ’Tis on her lips and in her maiden… I think it is the way to Paradise… Or of the Fount of Youth the crys… The bee hath no such honey in her…
‘Kiss me, dear Love!’- But there was none to hear, Only the darkness round about my b… And hollow silence, for thy face h… Though in my dreaming it had come…